


Blood Song

by Wincesteriffic Kaz (Disasteriffic_Kaz)



Series: By Your Command [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bottom Sam, Case Fic, D/s, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-02 20:59:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 50,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disasteriffic_Kaz/pseuds/Wincesteriffic%20Kaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A castle, an island and men’s bodies mysteriously drained of blood…what could possibly go wrong? Post 2x05 “Simon Said” Dean/Sam - Established Wincest - 6th in the “BYC Verse”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: It’s been too long since I played with my boys. :D If you haven’t read the first five stories in this verse, that’s alright. You shouldn’t be lost but…why would you want to miss out on all the fun? Although, given one part of this story I have planned, reading the first story in this verse at least would be a good idea.
> 
> Also, first two chapters? … *snicker* I’m working off a little…tension…before I kick the storyline into gear. I’m sure there won’t be any complaints.
> 
> Graphic depictions within. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own 'em but if I did…they'd never get dressed. Heh heh heh  
> ~Reviews are Love~

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

**Chapter 1**

Dean slammed back into the wall and slid to the floor with a groan. “Son of a…bitch.” He shook his head to clear the cobwebs and looked up with a snarl. “Let him go, you evil bitch!” He shouted and tried to get back to his feet. The witch they were hunting had hold of Sam. She had her hands on his face and it should have been easy enough for Sam to break her grip but he looked to be struggling. “Sammy!”

The witch held Sam with her power. It was difficult. Even with her magic wrapped tightly around his mind, he still struggled and she could feel him fighting her. She pulled his head down to her own curiously. “You’re very powerful. You know that?”

Sam could only stare angrily at her. His body felt paralyzed and he could hear his brother shouting. He fought to pull away and groaned in disgust when she licked up the side of his face.

“Oh, my.” The witch leaned back and stared into Sam’s blue-green eyes. “You have the remnants of a powerful spell in you.” She licked him again and then licked her lips savoring the taste. “Very powerful. What is it?”

“Screw you, lady!” Dean lunged for her with his knife only to be thrown again into a new wall before dropping to the floor again with another grunt of pain.

The witch pulled Sam closer. “Give me another taste of that power, boy.” She licked his throat above his collar, chuckling as he shuddered with disgust in her grasp. “Tastes like…control.” She tilted his head to look into his eyes again. “Someone had that willful little mind of yours under their thumb, and I think maybe if I taste a little more of you…I could learn how. What do you think?”

Sam gasped when a shot rang out and the witch screamed. He felt her magic leave him and he dropped to the floor. “Dean?”

Dean stalked over to them and stared down at the witch as she glared up at him and breathed her last. “I think you shouldn’t have touched my brother.” He put his gun up and dropped to his brother. “Sammy?” He took Sam’s face in his hands and stared into his eyes. “You alright?”

Sam nodded and shook hard. “Couldn’t move.”

“I know.” Dean pulled him in and wrapped his arms around Sam in a fierce hug. “Scared the shit outta me, little brother.”

“I’m alright.” Sam hugged him back and then got to his feet and swiped at his face where she had licked him with the sleeve of his jacket and a grimace of disgust.  “I just want to finish this and get the hell out of here.”  
  
“Good idea.” Dean delivered a parting kick to the witch’s leg and then went in search of his bag with the salt and lighter fluid. “Gonna enjoy toasting this bitch.”

Sam nodded and stared down at her. Her words echoed in his head and a sick feeling began to worm its way into his stomach. He put a hand up to the elephant hair collar at his neck and tried not to let it worry him. Sam shook himself when Dean came back in the room and put a smile on. “Salt?”

Dean tossed the canister to him and grabbed the lighter fluid. “Let’s light this place up. I don’t think the local cops need to find the stash of human flesh she has in the basement.”

The house burned behind them as the brothers jogged down the street back to the Impala. They drove in silence back to the motel, and every moment seemed to stretch on for Sam until they pulled up. He got out and didn’t need to look to see the concern on Dean’s face. His big brother knew something was up, and Sam wasn’t sure how to broach the subject.

Dean watched Sam walk into the motel room and frowned. He grabbed their bags and went in after him, kicking the door shut. He tossed the bags on the bed and watched Sam. “Alright, you big girl. What? What’s goin’ on in that freaky brain of yours this time? And don’t tell me nothing.”

Sam sighed. “It’s…” He closed his mouth rather than say ‘nothing’ and leaned on the wall next to the bathroom, needing the support. “Did you hear her?”

“What, crazy witch bitch?” Dean raised his brows. “What’s to hear?”

“She said she felt the remnants of a control spell in me, Dean.” Sam dropped his eyes miserably, unable to look at his brother just then. “It was the hypnotist’s amulet. Has to be. She said she could…taste it.” He rubbed self-consciously at his neck where she’d licked him. “Do you think…you and me…” He waved a hand between them and still wouldn’t meet Dean’s eyes. “…is that what happened? Was it the amulet that made us like…like this?”

“Like what?” Dean asked softly though he knew damn well where Sam was going and Dean’s temper was starting to rise to the occasion.

“You know.” Sam swallowed hard, worried that he was about to blow apart the one and only bright spot in his life by picking it apart. “Together.”

“No. No way, Sam,” Dean snarled. He crossed the space between them and grabbed hold of Sam’s shoulders. Dean thumped his back into the wall and forced Sam to look at him. “The only thing that amulet did was make us stop bein’ too damn scared to admit it!” He gave his little brother an angry shake. “You just start feelin’ like this about me after the amulet?”

Sam stared into Dean’s green eyes and shook his head slowly. “No.” He’d had inappropriate thoughts about his big brother since he was a teenager and knew Dean had as well.

“Well, neither did I.” Dean gave him another shake and then leaned down as the anger blew out of him. He pressed his forehead to Sam’s. “It gave you to me,” Dean breathed it against Sam’s lips. “I am not gonna regret that, Sam.”

Sam closed his eyes as the fear left on a rush of relief at Dean’s reassurance, and he nodded. “Gave us to each other.” He closed the distance between their lips and pressed his against Dean’s in a soft, tender kiss, suddenly needing the contact and Dean’s response to assure himself that they really were alright.

Dean growled and crushed his body against his brother’s, thrusting his tongue into his mouth and tasting every inch of Sam he could. “You’re mine, Sammy.” Dean gasped it into his mouth. “Mine. Don’t…” Dean kissed him deeply, knocking their teeth together. “…don’t you ever think I don’t want this…don’t want you.”

“Dean.” Sam wrapped his hands around the back of his brother’s head and held him still so he could kiss Dean and show him every ounce of love and need he had for him with his lips and tongue.

“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean groaned and rubbed their hardening cocks together through their jeans.

Sam gave a breathless chuckle as they kissed. “That…that sounds like a good…mmph…good idea.” He gave a nudge and then switched their positions, putting Dean’s back to the wall. He grinned and dropped to his knees. “Better get those shirts off.”

Dean thumped his head back into the wall as Sam pulled his jeans open. “Oh, hell yeah.” He shrugged his jacket off with Sam’s hand on him, grabbed the bottom of his shirts, and got tangled with them over his head when Sam’s warm, eager mouth swallowed his cock down to the root. “Fuck!”

Sam hummed around Dean’s length and let him bump the back of his throat when his brother’s hips jerked forward. He tilted his head slightly to look up and snorted a laugh as he pulled off to watch. “You, uh…need a little help there, Dean?” His brother had his shirts and arms trapped around his head.

“Shut…don’t stop, dammit!” Dean wrenched the shirts off and looked down as Sam slid his mouth back over him, all while keeping his eyes up and locked on Dean’s.  Dean felt his knees go weak seeing the depth of the love there in his brother’s gaze.  He still wasn’t sure what he had done to earn that level of devotion, but was eternally grateful that Sam chose to share that with him. He put his hands in Sam’s hair and closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of Sam’s warm, wet mouth closed around him and the little shivers of pleasure each time Sam took him deep and hummed in just that low tone that vibrated all the way up Dean’s spine. It was maddening and perfect and all going to be over way too soon if he let it go any longer. “Sam,” Dean moaned and tightened his hands in Sam’s hair. “Sam, sto…fuck…stop.” Dean pulled and loved the needy moan Sam gave him with his hair being used like a leash. “Bed, Sam.” He pulled his little brother up and shoved his jacket off his shoulders. “You’re wearin’ way too many clothes.”

Sam stood in a rush as he pulled off his shirts and dragged his jeans down his hips while Dean kicked his own off. Sam licked his lips at the sight of Dean naked and dropped back on the bed with a laugh when Dean pushed him. He scooted up the bed and took hold of the headboard behind him while Dean crawled over him.

Dean leaned down and licked a stripe up the center of Sam’s chest to his throat and brushed his fingers over the collar there, the one he’d put on him that Sam now rarely took off, and how he loved seeing the dark, almost black elephant braided elephant hair against Sam’s bronzed skin. He rested his weight down onto Sam and looked up at him. It struck him suddenly and made his stomach clench. The amulet may not have forced them to love each other, but what if it had influenced Sam another way…made him submissive and willing to give himself over to Dean’s every whim. Dean pulled back slightly and looked at his brother, already holding on to the headboard and waiting for Dean to give him anything, to use him any way he wanted, and he swallowed hard.

“Dean?” Sam took a hand from the headboard and curved it around his brother’s jaw. There was suddenly a look of such fear on Dean’s face at that moment, seemingly out of nowhere, that it scared Sam a little. “What’s wrong?”

Dean curled his fingers around the collar and watched Sam’s face, but Sam just looked at him puzzled by the sudden change in mood. “Sammy…you ever wanna…you know…ride me instead?”

Sam snorted and stared at him, a little confused. He slid his other hand down Dean’s back and pulled his hips in against his. “I ride you all the time, big brother.”

“That’s not…friggin’ dirty mind.” Dean couldn’t help but chuckle and he shook his head, becoming serious again. “You’re always the bottom, Sam. Do I…make you stay there? ‘Cause, you know, you could, if you wanted…be the, uh…the top once in a while.  We don’t always have to, ya know…be, uh, like we are.” Dean’s voice trailed off as his fingers traced the collar at Sam’s throat, but his eyes never left his brother’s face.

Sam frowned and brushed his thumb over his brother’s cheek. “Where’s this…wait. Is this because of the amulet?” His eyes went wide and he took Dean’s face in both his hands. “Dean, no!” Sam kissed him and smiled. He rolled his hips up into Dean’s, earning a low moan of want. “I like things the way they are. I mean…I REALLY like it. A lot.” Sam rolled his eyes. “You can make all the girly jokes you want, dude but this is exactly what I want.” He kissed Dean again. “What I need.” Sam thrust their hips together again, brushing their straining cocks together.

“But, Sam…”

“Every wet dream I ever had of you as a teenager involved your cock…” Sam reached down and wrapped his hand around his brother’s erection and squeezed until the air punched out of Dean’s lungs on a moan. “…inside me.”

“Son of a…” Dean groaned and rolled his hips, making Sam stroke him.

“Your hands holding me down.” Sam bit along Dean’s jaw to his neck. “You think I’d let you do half the stuff you do to me and then beg you for more if I didn’t like it? I was a kinky bastard long before that amulet, big brother.”

“Fuck, I love you,” Dean growled and got his head back in the game. Sam’s deep, sex-heavy voice in his ear was enough to make Mother Theresa wet her panties, so who was he to resist? He wasn’t sure he entirely believed Sam but, for now, well, he’d just have to make sure he didn’t take it too far until he could be sure. Of course, if Sam HAD a “too far,” Dean hadn’t been able to find it yet.  He gave a mental shrug and a smirk. “Hands on the headboard, little brother.”

“’Bout damn time.” Sam moaned happily with Dean licking his way down his chest and across his stomach. He yelped and laughed when Dean bit the inside of his thigh for the comment, and Sam’s brain officially shut down for the night with the first swipe of Dean’s firm tongue over his hole.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

Sam woke in the circle of Dean’s arms with a shaft of sunlight falling over his big brother’s face from the window. He leaned up enough to look at him smiled. Dean looked so peaceful right then, the weight of the world off his shoulders, at least for a moment while he slept, not having to worry about Sam or miss their father. Sam sighed. He wished he could keep Dean this peaceful all the time and smirked because sex went a long way toward helping. He eased out of the bed and his brother’s arms, soothing the backs of his knuckles over Dean’s chest when he stirred until he settled back to sleep again.

Sam went silently into the bathroom and closed the door. He looked at himself in the mirror, naked but for the collar and smiled softly as he put a hand to it. He knew Dean was still worried, still afraid that Sam submitted to him the way he did because magic was forcing him to. Sam rolled his eyes and went to the sink to brush his teeth. “Idiot,” Sam muttered fondly. He was going to have to find a way to reassure Dean that the trust Sam had in him was absolute, that he wanted exactly what they had together of his own free will.

It came to him while he was in the shower and Sam grinned. They were actually closer than he’d realized, less than an hour away, and all he had to do was get Dean there…and maybe ask the guys for a little help. Sam got out of the shower in a much better frame of mind and wrapped a towel around his hips. He opened the bathroom door and found Dean just sitting up. “Mornin’, bedhead.”

“Huh?” Dean slapped a hand up to his hair and groaned, feeling that one side was sticking straight up. “Shuddup.”

Sam shrugged and tossed his towel on the bed, standing naked before his brother. “That’s what you get for putting all that product in your hair, dude.”

“I do not put ‘product’ in my hair. Girls do that.” Dean snarled and got out of the bed. He slapped Sam’s ass on his past to the bathroom. “Don’t make me beat you.”

“Promises. Promises,” Sam taunted and leaned over the table, angling his backside out in a tacit invitation. Before, Dean would have rounded on him, his face would have darkened with passion, and Sam would have been the happy recipient of several of his big brother’s handprints. This time…Dean frowned and turned away.

“Takin’ a shower. Find some coffee, please?”

Sam scowled and straightened as the bathroom door closed. “Oh, yeah. This shit’s gonna stop.” He dressed in a hurry, grabbed his coat and his phone, and left to find coffee and make a call.

Dean came out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam. Sam hadn’t used all the hot water for once. He smiled and then frowned, seeing his brother was still gone. “How long’s it take to get coffee?” He dressed quickly and smiled again when he heard the Impala’s distinctive engine outside. Dean pulled his t-shirt on as Sam came in and grinned at the big brown bag and two coffee cups his brother brought.

“Coffee and Danish.” Sam chuckled at the avaricious look on his big brother’s face and handed Dean his coffee before sitting at the table with his own and the bag.

“No donuts?” Dean asked, leaning over and peering into the bag. He chuckled at the look of disgust on Sam’s face. “I’m kidding.” He pulled out an apple Danish and took a bite, leaving icing along his lips and moaned. “S’good.”

Sam grabbed Dean’s shirt and used it to pull him down. “Yeah, it is.” He licked all the flakes of icing from his big brother’s face with long, slow swipes of his tongue and sat back with a smile when he was finished. Dean just stood there, bent over and watching him with lust-blown eyes and a half eaten Danish. “Your Danish is getting cold.”

“Right. Yeah. Wow.” Dean took another bite and smirked. “We gotta get these more often.”

Sam chuckled and sipped his own coffee. He leaned back in the chair and prepared for an argument. “So, I can’t help but notice how close we are to Kinseyville.” He saw Dean’s eyes narrow and Sam kept his smile in place. “It’s been a while since we saw Steve and Joe.” Sam pulled a Danish out of the bag and shrugged. “It’d be nice to visit the club again.”

“Sammy.” Dean sighed and turned away to sit on the end of the bed.

“We should see how they’re doing and…play…again,” Sam said it softly and smirked as Dean unconsciously licked his lips. The memories were vivid for both of them, and he knew Dean had enjoyed it every bit as much as he had; Sam on display for a room of people with Dean owning him in every way possible. Sam had to reach down and adjust himself, hard again at just the thought.

Dean remembered that night well. It had been, well, glorious. Sam had been glorious and beautiful, and Dean had been in awe at the trust his brother had in him. Dean frowned now because he wasn’t sure anymore if that trust was real. “Sammy, we don’t…”

“Stop it, Dean.” Sam shook his head. “I swear to you it wasn’t the amulet that made me a sub.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do,” Sam said quickly. He tossed the Danish on the table and went to kneel in front of his brother. “Dean, when are you going to trust me on this? I don’t want to lose what we have.” He leaned his head forward and rested it on his big brother’s chest, over his heart. “I need it. I need you just like we are, not wearing kid gloves and afraid to touch me. Please, Dean.”

Dean stared down at his head and closed his eyes, defeated. He couldn’t let Sam feel guilty or hurt because of his own insecurities. “Alright. I’m…I’m sorry; but we don’t have to go to the club.”

Sam leaned back and quirked a smile. “But I already called Steve and told him we’d be there tonight.”

“What?” Dean pushed up off the bed to glare at him.

“We’re going.” Sam took his brother’s seat on the bed calmly. He’d known Dean would try to find a way to back out of it and he wasn’t going to let him. “It’s a good thing I did call. Steve said they need someone tonight to show off.” Sam chuckled. “Apparently they had this guy who does this whole thing with whips and backlit screens or something and he broke his leg.” Sam leaned back and aimed a finger at his brother. “I’ve seen you screwing with that old whip in the trunk. You’re good.”

“Dude, did you volunteer me as a friggin’ carnie show?” Dean asked in dismay.

Sam laughed. “Shut up. You know you’ll love it.” He stood up again and patted Dean’s chest before he went back to his seat and his Danish. “You get to show off your lion tamer skills in front of everyone and if you blow it, the only things you’ll hurt are some defenseless paper screens.”

Dean glared at his little brother’s satisfied face and had the sudden urge to tie him down and redden his ass for a while. He pushed the thought away and grabbed another Danish from the bag. “Fine; but I’m gonna get you back for this. You wait.”

“Looking forward to it,” Sam said softly while Dean muttered his way around the room, beginning to pack their bags. He smiled to himself and hoped the rest of the night went as planned.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_To Be Continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: This chapter…the club scene in particular…was inspired by my lovely beta, Janice who painted this vivid picture for me and once I stopped drooling, I took notes and here you are. *fans self* Oi.
> 
> Graphic depictions within. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own 'em but if I did…they'd never get dressed. Heh heh heh  
> ~Reviews are Love~

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_“We’re going.” Sam took his brother’s seat on the bed calmly. He’d known Dean would try to find a way to back out of it and he wasn’t going to let him. “It’s a good thing I did call. Steve said they need someone tonight to show off.” Sam chuckled. “Apparently they had this guy who does this whole thing with whips and backlit screens or something and he broke his leg.” Sam leaned back and aimed a finger at his brother. “I’ve seen you screwing with that old whip in the trunk. You’re good.”_

_“Dude, did you volunteer me as a friggin carnie show?” Dean asked in dismay._

_Sam laughed. “Shut up. You know you’ll love it.” He stood up again and patted Dean’s chest before he went back to his seat and his Danish. “You get to show off your cowboy skills in front of everyone and if you blow it, the only thing you’ll hurt are some defenseless paper screens.”_

_Dean glared at his little brother’s satisfied face and had the sudden urge to tie him down and redden his ass for a while. He pushed the thought away and grabbed another Danish from the bag. “Fine, but I’m gonna get you back for this. You wait.”_

_“Looking forward to it,” Sam said softly while Dean muttered his way around the room, beginning to pack their bags. He smiled to himself and hoped the rest of the night went as planned._

**Chapter 2**

The big old house that held the club looked just the same as the last time they’d been. Dean got out and looked up at it, remembering the big, multi-storied room hidden inside. It looked like a normal, period house from the street, unless you knew what went on there.

“Coming?” Sam asked and raised a brow at Dean who was standing there staring at the house like it was going to eat them.

“Yeah.” Dean followed Sam up the walk and shook his head at himself. He was being stupid about this, he knew. He just couldn’t seem to stop the thoughts running round and round in his mind that he was somehow abusing his little brother thanks to magical intervention, no matter how much Sam seemed to enjoy it…and he did. Dean looked over at him now and smiled as he found Sam with his fingers around his collar. Dean sighed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I’m not mad at you, by the way, for roping me into this.”

Sam laughed and leaned into him as they climbed the stairs. “Pun intended?”

“Shut it, smart ass,” Dean said fondly and knocked on the door while Sam chuckled.

“Dean! Sam!” Steve said as he opened the door and then hugged both men warmly before standing back. “Dean, I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you agreed to this.” He’d been more than willing to help when Sam had called him earlier in the day. Though he knew Sam was keeping some details to himself and Steve would never pry, it was clear he needed help reminding, or reassuring, Dean how much they both enjoyed their lifestyle. Steve was nothing if not the consummate actor and had no problem playing this cool. “When Terry called this morning to say he broke his leg, I thought we were screwed. Thank you so much! Come on! Come in!”

Dean let Steve usher them inside and shrugged. “Well, I do have a few skills with a whip.”

“He’s an artist,” Sam said easily and smiled. “What? You are, and you always love playing to an audience.”

“Well, he’ll have his work cut out for him. Tough crowd in there tonight.” Steve led them down the hall and through a side door. “Wardrobe.” He smirked. “Can’t have you on stage in jeans and a t-shirt. Theater, Dean. It matters.”

“Awesome.” Dean groaned. “No assless chaps. I draw the line.”

“Aww,” Sam laughed and ducked the swat to his head. “I’ll go find Joe.”

“That door there.” Steve patted Sam’s shoulder and pointed to another door. “Now, Dean, how do you feel about leather?”

Sam ducked out of the room and into the next, pushing the door closed. “Hey, Joe.” He smiled and didn’t mind when the man stepped forward and hugged him. They’d all shared something intensely personal on the stage not all that long ago. “How are you?”

“Better than you, I think.” Joe leaned back and took a look at the much taller man. “Are you really that worried about him?”

Sam let the smile falter for only a moment. “It’ll be fine after tonight. He just needs…reminding.”

Joe nodded and chuckled. “That we can do. Are you sure, though?” He pointed to a pile of clothes on a table next to the door. “It could be dangerous.”

“Not with him,” Sam said firmly. “Trust me.” He picked up a pair of black leather pants and a leather vest and snorted. “Can’t believe I’m gonna wear these.”

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

Dean stood in the wings of the stage and had a monumental case of nerves as he watched Joe up there, blonde hair shining in the overhead lights while he told the audience what was coming next: Dean. He jumped as arms wrapped around his bare chest from behind and then relaxed into them. “Hey, Sammy.”

“You’re gonna be amazing, Dean,” Sam assured him. He ran a hand down his brother’s oiled and glistening chest to the tight, leather pants Steve had gotten him into and shivered with the sensation. “Think they’ll let us keep the pants?”

Dean chuckled and turned to look at his brother. They’d given Sam a matching pair and added a black leather vest that left his arms and chest bare and made the collar at his throat stand out. They’d oiled his skin as well and Sam’s muscles gleamed in the lights. “I’ll beg.”

Sam leaned in and licked Dean’s lips suggestively. “That’s my job.”

Dean shuddered at the needy tone in Sam’s voice and kissed him fiercely until he heard his name being called. He broke away with a gasp and smiled. “Think that’s my cue.” He gave Sam a last kiss and turned, took a deep breath, and strode up the stairs onto the stage and out into the lights. He raised his arms in a wave when Joe motioned to him.

“Alright, Dean.” Joe smiled broadly and pointed. “There’s your bullwhip and we’ll wheel out a fresh screen for you every time you need one.” He nodded to the first paper screen opposite Dean. It was roughly seven feet tall made of cream paper in a metal frame that Dean recognized as being one of the bondage frames, tonight being used for a different purpose.  The soft glow of candles flickered behind it. To the side of the stage, a handful of screens waited for him and Dean swallowed hard before looking back out at the crowd. He put his game face on.

Sam smiled the moment he saw Dean step into his confident self. It was the same face his brother used on FBI agents and medical examiners. The one that said ‘don’t screw with me,’ and Sam loved it. He watched Dean pick up the long coiled length of the bullwhip and shivered in anticipation as his brother flicked his wrist and let it uncoil along the floor in a slither of movement.

“Breathe, Sam,” Steve said as he came up alongside the younger Winchester and put a hand to his shoulder. He frowned. “Sam, if you’re nervous about this, we can…”

“Not nervous.” Sam smiled and glanced at the man. “Impatient.

Steve chuckled and patted his shoulder before moving away. “Good boy.”

He was good at this, Dean thought to himself and gave a practiced swing. The whip drew back in an arc and lashed out the screen. It took him two tries to find just the right distance and strength, and then Dean was carving the paper like an artist. The crowd roared each time the end of the whip sliced the fine paper and applauded thunderously after Dean drew a Devil’s Trap in the second screen with the whip. He smirked. He was damn good. All those hours practicing out back of Bobby’s since he was a kid pretending to be Indiana Jones, and finally he got to show off. Sam had been right. This was an awesome idea.

Sam watched his brother work the whip like the master he knew him to be, slicing ever more intricate patterns into each new screen, and each strike of the leather weapon into paper made him shiver. He kept his gaze focused on Dean though, waiting until he saw it, and finally he did. The look of almost glazed pleasure on his big brother’s face that told him he was slipping into that place he went when he dominated Sam, when he had Sam writhing and moaning at his mercy and still kept going, pushing further and honing Sam’s desperation to new levels of pleading and begging. “Finally.” Sam smiled and strode up the steps to the stage as a fresh screen was rolled into place across from his brother.

Dean heard the crowd gasp and gave himself a shake. He lowered his arm and looked up to see his brother walking onto the stage. “Sammy? What…” his voice trailed off and died in his throat as Sam walked in front of the new screen, stripped off the black vest and tossed it aside. The look in Sam’s eyes when they met Dean’s was one of challenge and absolute trust before his little brother slowly turned his back in a clear invitation. “Sam, no,” Dean whispered. He tensed to go to him and shove Sam off the stage, but Sam turned his head just enough to catch Dean’s eyes and the look was clear…yes.  He very deliberately reached up grasping the top bar of the frame near the corners, the position making the muscles in his back stand out under the taut, oiled skin.

“Holy shit,” Dean gasped, overwhelmed at what Sam was asking…and offering. Even the crowd was silent and tense, watching and waiting to see what would happen. All the while, his little brother stood there, back straight and head held high, arms outstretched, shining in the lights, completely vulnerable with all that bare, unprotected skin just beckoning. He got it…at last. Sam was making a point, showing Dean that he trusted him implicitly in all things, not just in the bedroom, and it was time Dean realized there was no difference to him. Dean had used a flogger on him innumerable times, knowing how much Sam loved it, but they’d never done this, never with an actual whip, a weapon that, with one misplaced or too-forceful stroke, could slice through flesh and muscle down to the bone. He wasn’t sure he could bring himself to do it.  But if he refused, it would be a rejection of the amazing gift of pure trust that Sam was offering, and that he wouldn’t…couldn’t…do.

Dean took a deep breath to steady himself and pulled the weapon back, letting it trail over the floor with a hushed whisper. He saw Sam shiver slightly in anticipation, drew his arm back and sent it sailing toward Sam with a flick of his wrist and a loud crack.

Sam closed his eyes on a breathless moan as the leather weight of the bull whip sliced cleanly through the paper screen less than an inch from his ribs. A tear slid down his cheek in gratitude that Dean would give him this, and he let his head fall back a little while the crowd grew in volume once more.

Dean licked his lips and let a smile curve them as his cock hardened painfully in the tight leather. “Fuck, Sammy. So hot,” he whispered and drew the whip back again. He flicked it out and this time aimed for Sam’s back, subtly adjusting the force behind his motions. The leather tip just brushed down Sam’s left shoulder blade, leaving a thin, barely visible red line in its wake, and he’d swear he heard Sam cry out. Dean let the moment take him. There was nothing but the sound of the audience, the crack of the whip, and the soft moans of his little brother. For every precision strike he made to the paper around Sam’s body, creating an intricate pattern woven around him, he made another along his brother’s back, just enough to tease at the real pain he could inflict and impress that he didn’t need to.

Through it all, Sam never flinched or pulled away, even though the crisscross patterns of red welts on his back bore witness to that fact that, while Dean was stopping short of causing actual injury, the lashes still had some force behind them.  Dean let the whip slither along the floor again as Sam moved and lust punched through him as his little brother turned around to face him. There was nothing but need and love on Sam’s face…and the unmistakable evidence that his little brother was damn close to coming just from the touch of the whip.

Sam took in a few shaky breaths and stayed facing Dean, his eyes locked on his brother’s face. It was costing him a monumental effort of will to not come. The bite of the whip, the rush of the crowd, and knowing that his brother was in fearless charge of it all…he shuddered again with Dean’s heavy-lidded gaze on him. “More,” Sam said just loudly enough for Dean to hear him.

For a moment, Dean thought he might lose it on the spot. And then Dean had a new goal: He was going to make his brother come in those tasty leather pants without ever laying a finger on him. He twitched the whip, stretching it across the stage to curl briefly around Sam’s ankles before pulling it back, letting it tug on one just briefly as it unwound.  Sam instantly understood the unspoken command and shifted his legs wider apart.  Two light flicks to each of his arms, however, left him puzzled.  He knew instinctively Dean wanted him to do something with his arms, but what?  He started to move them behind his back, but with a sharp crack, the whip sliced into the paper right above his head.  That one startled him since Dean had been carefully avoiding any hits above his shoulders, and Sam could swear he felt this strike actually ruffle his hair, it was that close.   
  
Dean saw the barely perceptible flinch cross Sam’s face and he gave a tiny, apologetic grimace in return.  That HAD landed a bit lower than he’d intended, but, hell, it wasn’t his fault Sam was freaky tall. Sam, however had settled right back into whatever head space was letting him stand there, unbound, still radiating complete trust as he raised his arms and laced his fingers behind his head, keeping his elbows back and leaving himself completely in Dean’s hands.    
  
Dean flashed him a wicked grin which went straight to Sam’s cock, and let the whip fly again without warning. The crack sounded as the weight brushed just heavily enough down Sam’s chest to leave a mark. Dean laid out two more in rapid succession until Sam’s head fell back on a shout of pleasure and he waited for his brother to pick his head back up and meet him with bleary eyes.

“Come for me, Sammy,” Dean ordered loudly over the crowd in that growling voice of his as he flicked the whip one last time. It cracked and flew out to just barely brush across the erection straining the front of his brother’s leather pants. Sam was helpless in the pleasure to do anything but obey as the tip of the whip stroked his hard cock perfectly. He came hard enough to arch his chest and drop his head back, shouting the ecstasy to the ceiling high above. His legs went out from under him but Dean was there, catching him against his chest with his face in his neck, to hold him up.

“God, Sammy. So good for me. So hot.” Dean panted and held him tightly while the crowd roared in awe. He lowered them both to their knees and cradled Sam in against him. “So fuckin’ beautiful, Sam.”

“Love you, Dean,” Sam said breathlessly and got his arms around his brother with a smile. He basked in the afterglow of a damn amazing orgasm with Dean’s hands rubbing gently up and down his back. Sam blinked his eyes open after a moment and saw Steve and Joe both walk to them and kneel down. “Hi, guys,” Sam said in a slightly punch-drunk slur and grinned.

“Hey, Sam.” Joe brushed his fingers fondly through Sam’s sweat-damp, dark hair and leaned down to find Dean’s eyes. “You guys ready to take this backstage?”

Steve ran his hand down Dean’s bare back once and shook his head with a smile. “I knew what Sam was planning but…wow. Anytime you want to come back and demonstrate those whip skills again, do it.” He looked up and tossed a wave at the still cheering crowd. “Not to mention that display of trust Sam’s got in you.  I’ve seen some subs who trust doms with whip play, but even then, they’re bound just to keep from pulling away on sheer instinct. I’ve never seen anything quite like that.”  He brushed a finger over one of the welts on Sam’s chest.  “That was amazing, Sam.”  Sam actually blushed, and Steve chuckled.  “We’ve got your room ready for you.”

Dean pressed a kiss into Sam’s shoulder and nodded. “You ready to move, little brother?”

Sam sighed and tightened his arms around Dean’s shoulders. “When you are.”

“Going up.” Dean stood, grateful for Steve and Joe’s hands to help get his now rubbery brother off his knees and back on his feet. The crowd gave another roar of approval and Dean smirked. “Think we better show ‘em you’re alright.” He turned Sam with gentle hands until he was standing with his back resting against Dean’s chest. Dean slid his arms around Sam’s waist and held on to him while the crowd shouted and his brother shivered. “You good?”

“Mmm hmm.” Sam hummed and turned back to his brother after giving a tired wave to the crowd. “Want a bed now.” He dropped his head on Dean’s shoulder. “With you in it.”

“That’s the plan.” Dean gave a wave of his own to the crowd and followed Steve off the stage while Joe stayed behind to keep working the crowd. “Hey, Steve?” Dean called and smiled when he looked back at them. “Thanks.”

“Anytime, Dean. Sam. Here you go. Same room you had before.” Steve pushed the door open and pulled it softly closed behind them once they were through. He smiled and whistled back down the hall to the bar.

“You wanna shower?” Dean asked and Sam shook his head.

“No, but, uh…probably oughta.” Sam grimaced with a laugh and pulled at the leather pants. “This is really uncomfortable.” His own come was creating a hot, sticky mess that he wanted out of fast.

Dean snorted and pulled him to the bathroom. “Get you cleaned up and in bed.”

Sam unbuttoned the leather pants and leaned on the wall while Dean got the shower running. “Then you can mess me up again.”

Dean palmed his own cock through his pants, still rock hard and desperate for friction… desperate for Sam. “This is gonna be a fast shower.” He chuckled and helped peel Sam out of the leather. It did nothing for his own desire when he saw Sam was already half-hard again just thinking about him in bed, and Dean made good his promise. The shower was a quick job of washing the oil off himself and Sam. He paid careful attention to his little brother’s back under the hot spray and smiled, seeing that none of the welts were more than the barest of raised skin. By the time they stepped out and Dean rubbed a towel over Sam’s hair, parts of his brother were standing at attention once more. Dean slipped his fingers under the collar and tugged, pulling Sam out of the bathroom.

“Can’t believe you did that for me, Sammy,” Dean said softly and maneuvered his brother to the big, king size bed and pushed him gently down onto it. He grabbed a tube of lube from the table next to it and tossed it onto the bed and then just looked at Sam. “That was…I’m sorry.” Dean shook his head and crawled on to lay over his brother as he had the night before, but this time with a different sort of guilt. “I’m sorry I doubted you.”

Sam smiled and pulled Dean’s head down. He kissed him, softly at first and then with more heat. The feel of all that naked flesh pressed against his and the hard cock Dean had been living with for the past half hour was too much of a draw. “Think I can guess how you can make it up to me.”

Dean chuckled and leaned back. “Uh huh.” He took Sam’s arms one at a time and guided them to the wrought-iron headboard. “Don’t let go.” Sam shook his head and stared up at him with lust-dark eyes.

“I don’t deserve you, dude.”

“Yeah, you do,” Sam said firmly. “You deserve me and this and so much more, Dean.”

“You are just…” Dean laughed softly and started kissing his way down Sam’s body, “…you are one giant, walking chick flick, you know that?”

“You love me for it…shit!” Sam’s breath punched out of him when Dean took his cock in his mouth and sucked hard.

Dean let his cock slide out of his mouth and looked up fiercely. “Don’t you come until I say, little brother. You got that?” The happy, grateful moan and shiver Sam gave him in response was enough to settle whatever last little niggling doubt Dean had and he grinned darkly. “You know what I missed hearing out there?” He pushed Sam’s knees back into his brother’s chest. “You screaming my name.”

“Oh, fuck,” Sam groaned and then whimpered when Dean’s pushed between his legs. It was different from the night before. Where Dean had been gentle…almost apologetic, now he was fierce. His tongue thrust inside Sam, and he felt two of Dean’s fingers join it, forcing him to open with the burn/pleasure of the stretch. “God…Yes!”

Dean licked and sucked and had three fingers inside Sam before his brother even realized. He leaned back a little to look up and took a moment to savor the sight. Sam lay with his head thrown back, his mouth hanging open, and all Dean could think was ‘mine’. He pressed his fingers into Sam and rubbed his sweet spot. Sam shouted and his body began to vibrate on the bed with pleasure.

“Dean…Dean! God!” Sam cried out his brother’s name with spikes of pleasure slamming through him and his cock bouncing on his stomach, begging for any touch. He thrashed his head on the pillow with Dean’s fingers pressing rhythmically inside him. “Dean! I can’t…m’gonna…please!”

Dean let go of Sam’s knee, letting his leg drop the bed. He grabbed the lube and slicked his own cock, now desperate to be inside his brother. “I got you, Sammy.” He licked up Sam’s chest, paying special attention to the three, fading red lines he’d put there with the whip and grinning as Sam whimpered at the touch. He pulled his fingers out and then pushed his cock inside those tight, fluttering muscles all at the same time and Sam convulsed underneath him with a shout.

“Fuck!” Sam gasped as Dean suddenly filled him up. It was too much and not enough and he opened his eyes to look up at him in desperation. “Dean…please. Please!”

“Shit, Sammy.” Dean took his mouth in a searing tangle of tongues and teeth and fought his own desire to come right then. He growled and pulled out in a long, slow slide until only the head of his cock was still inside him. Dean slammed home inside him hard enough to shove Sam an inch up the bed, only his hands fisted on the headboard keeping his head from knocking back into it. There were tears on Sam’s face as Dean kept up the rhythm, slow slide out and hard thrust back in. They rocked together on the bed with Sam’s cries filling the room. Dean pulled his hands up to his brother’s head. He curled the fingers of one around the collar, pulling it taut and fisted the other in Sam’s hair to give a sharp pull. “Come for me, little brother. Come…” Dean slammed home inside again and nailed his sweet spot. “…now.”

Sam went wild under him. The pleasure tore through him, arching his back and stole his breath. For a moment, he couldn’t make a sound as his cock began to pulse with the feel of Dean filling him up over and over and then he screamed. He bellowed his brother’s name as his climax overwhelmed him and felt Dean’s cock began to fatten and pulse inside him.

“Sam!” Dean watched his brother with awe and it tore away the last shred of his control. He came inside him with Sam’s muscles holding him tight like they’d never let go. He dropped his head and shouted into Sam’s neck until at last they both collapsed. Sam’s arms dropped from the headboard and Dean managed to get his head up while gasping for breath. He grinned down at Sam’s face and the dazed, nearly asleep look in his half-lidded eyes. “Hey…hey, Sammy,” Dean whispered. He ducked his head and kissed him softly, getting only a soft, happy moan in return and chuckled.

Sam couldn’t move. He smiled lazily up at Dean and let his eyes fall closed. He loved the sensation of feeling cheerfully used by his big brother. The level of attention Dean gave him was sometimes overwhelming, and Sam was damn glad to have it back. He sighed for the loss when Dean shifted his hips and slid out of him. He suddenly felt empty and alone as his brother moved off the bed and he moaned in protest.

“Hang on.” Dean dashed into the bathroom on rubbery legs and grabbed a wet washcloth, then ran back and slid onto the bed next to Sam who had yet to move. He smiled and leaned down to rest his head on Sam’s forehead while he carefully cleaned him up. Dean swiped the washcloth down Sam’s chest and then between his legs, being as gentle as he could. He smirked and wondered how long it would take Sam to realize what Dean had done to his chest with the whip, that the three lashes he’d given him before making him come formed a crude letter ‘D’.

“Dean,” Sam said softly.

“Right here, buddy,” Dean rolled and shoved at the covers, working them out from under them both until he could pull them back. He tugged them up and then wrapped himself around Sam, pulling his lax form in against his chest. Dean tucked Sam’s head under his chin and settled with a sigh. “Alright, little brother?”

Sam nodded and slung an arm over Dean’s waist. “Love you, Dean,” he said sleepily.

“Love you too, Sammy,” Dean held him tight while Sam went heavy against him in sleep. “So damn much.”

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

Dean drove with a smile on his face, one hand on the wheel and the other around his little brother’s shoulders where he’d slid into his side and fallen asleep an hour earlier. They’d left the club after Steve and Joe extracted a promise from them both to return soon. He smiled; that was a promise he intended to keep. “Hey, Sammy.” Dean jostled his brother’s head with his shoulder as the sign for Singer Salvage appeared. “Time to wake up. We’re here.”

Sam yawned and sat up, stretching in the seat until he was arched over the back with his arms spread along the roof. “Mornin’.”

Dean chuckled and couldn’t resist reaching over to pinch the tempting glimpse of skin as Sam’s shirts rode up over his jeans. He grinned when Sam yelped and dropped back.

“Jerk!” Sam elbowed his brother with a laugh.

“Bitch,” Dean returned happily and turned into the cluttered salvage yard. It didn’t surprise him to see Bobby standing on the porch waiting, like he’d known they were on their way and he smiled.

Bobby watched his boys drive up with a fond smile but made sure to put on his customary frown before they got it. Like he couldn’t see through the damn chain link fence? Bobby snorted, having had a perfect view of Sam cuddled into his big brother before Dean had pushed him up straight. Idjits.

“About time you two got yer’ asses in gear!” Bobby called. He rolled his eyes for form’s sake when Sam strode up the steps and hugged him. “Whatever. Get off already.”

Sam chuckled and turned to catch the bag Dean tossed to him. “Hey, Bobby.”

“Don’t get comfy. May as well leave those bags in the car.” Bobby nodded to the one Sam held. “Think I maybe got a job for you.”

Dean dropped his duffel back in the trunk and grinned. “Something juicy?”

“Funny you should say that. Come on.” Bobby thumped Sam’s shoulder and went in the house.

Sam tossed his bag back to his brother with a shrug. “Must be good if he’s not letting us unpack.”

“Means bodies are on the ground.” Dean closed the trunk and jogged over to trail Sam into the house. “What’cha got, Bobby?”

“In here!” Bobby called from his desk. “Buddy of mine called yesterday.” He handed some papers to Sam with a wave. “He was hunting something on Dark Island in New York. He’s thinkin’ vampire, but he hasn’t found the damn thing yet.”

Sam looked through the news articles and nodded. “Could be. Bodies of men, seven of them looks like, turning up in the river drained of blood with bite marks on…well, some of them are on the neck.”

“Where’s the rest?” Dean leaned over to look and snorted. “Dude. Kinky vampire.”

Bobby chuckled. “Takes a special kinda freak to drain a man from the thigh.”

Sam sat on the couch and went through the rest of the papers. “So why’s your friend need us?”

“He lookin’ for Winchester backup?” Dean asked with a wry grin. “I know we’re bad ass.”

“More like pains in the ass,” Bobby growled fondly. He straightened his ball cap and leaned back in his chair. “Damn fool went and broke his leg. Says he doesn’t remember how he did it but they found him drifting in the river.”

“He doesn’t remember?” Sam asked in surprise.

Bobby shook his head. “Last thing he remembers is checking the dock for something and then nothin’ after that.” He smiled. “You boys are gonna have to take a boat ride out to Dark Island.”

“Dark Island? Well, that’s not ominous at all.” Dean rolled his eyes with a snort. “What’s on the island?”

“A castle.” Bobby smiled. “Big ol’ sucker. They rent rooms, run tours, that kinda thing. This time of year, it’s slow and mostly empty, but give it a couple months more and that place’ll be hoppin’ with fresh meat for whatever’s doin’ the killin’.”

“Singer Castle.” Sam looked up from the notes with a chuckle. “Something you forgot to tell us about the Singer family tree, Bobby?”

“Whoa! Bobby’s got a castle?” Dean laughed and ducked the balled up paper Bobby threw at his head.

“Get the stars outta your eyes, idjit. Ain’t no relations of mine. No, you don’t have a castle in the family.” He laughed and shrugged.

Sam’s eyes widened and he looked up from the autopsy photos. “It’s not a vampire. At least, I don’t think it is.” He pulled one of the black and white pictures out and held it out to his brother. “That doesn’t look like a vampire bite.”

“Good eye, son,” Bobby smiled. “Only two punctures, so unless it’s someone masquerading as Dracula…you got somethin’ else on your hands here.”

Sam looked through the rest of the pictures and tried to think what it could be other than a vampire. “You come up with anything, Bobby?”

“Too many damn possibilities. You find somethin’ to narrow it down for me and I’ll figure it out.” Bobby shrugged again. “Until then, just watch each other’s backs.”

Sam smirked over at his brother and brushed a hand down his chest over the fading ‘D’ Dean had left there with the whip. He watched Dean’s eyes darken and grinned. “Not a problem.”

“You leave now, you can be there by tomorrow afternoon.” Bobby averted his eyes and pretended not to see the look that passed between them. Someday, when he was in the mood to mortify both Winchesters, he’d burst their delusional bubble and watch them squirm. Until then, he settled for a knowing smirk that he quickly wiped from his face. He knew they probably thought he’d take a shotgun to them or something, but the truth was, they made each other happy; and considering how much this life had already taken from them…Bobby couldn’t fault them a moment’s happiness, however they got it, so long as they took care of each other. “Get yer’ asses movin’ already.”

“Gosh, Bobby. You didn’t even miss us, did you?” Dean snorted a laugh and backed away when Bobby stood and picked up a book, aiming it at his head.

“Startin’ to think it’s been too long since I kicked your ass, son.” Bobby followed them to the door and smiled to himself as they jogged down his steps and got back into the Impala. His phone rang and Bobby gave a last wave as the car pulled away before going to his desk and digging the phone out from under a pile of papers. “Bobby. What do you want?” His brows flew up in surprise and then he grinned as he sat down. “Been a while since you called me for somethin’, Ellen. What can I do ya’ for?” He scowled. “I am not flirting.” Bobby rolled his eyes. “Shuddup. I am not outta practice. Spit it out, woman.”

He listened with a frown forming and then leaned forward. “Wait. Where did Ash say he found it? …balls. No, don’t. It may not be a thing. No sense in worryin’ the boys if we don’t have to.” Bobby sighed and shook his head. “Hell, Ellen. I don’t know, but I do know Sam tears himself up over all these…special kids. He finds out another of ‘em went bad and just…I’ll tell him if I have to. I ain’t gonna borrow trouble. Besides, they’re gonna be on a damn island in the middle of the St. Lawrence. Yeah…yeah, alright. I will. Ellen…thanks.”

Bobby hung up the phone and hoped he hadn’t just sent his boys into the middle of a complete disaster. They needed a damn break.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_To Be Continued…_

_… *snicker* see? I found the plot! Knew I left it somewhere around here. :P_


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: ah HA! Found the plot! The Muse was sitting on it and hoping I’d get hopelessly stuck in naughtyville a while longer. :P
> 
> Graphic depictions within. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own 'em but if I did…they'd never get dressed. Heh heh heh  
> ~Reviews are Love~

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_Bobby followed them to the door and smiled to himself as they jogged down his steps and got back into the Impala. His phone rang and Bobby gave a last wave as the car pulled away before going to his desk and digging the phone out from under a pile of papers. “Bobby. What do you want?” His brows flew up in surprise and then he grinned as he sat down. “Been a while since you called me for somethin’, Ellen. What can I do ya’ for?” He scowled. “I am not flirting.” Bobby rolled his eyes. “Shuddup. I am not outta practice. Spit it out, woman.”_

_He listened with a frown forming and then leaned forward. “Wait. Where did Ash say he found it? …balls. No, don’t. It may not be a thing. No sense in worryin’ the boys if we don’t have to.” Bobby sighed and shook his head. “Hell, Ellen. I don’t know, but I do know Sam tears himself up over all these…special kids. He finds out another of ‘em went bad and just…I’ll tell him if I have to. I ain’t gonna borrow trouble. Besides, they’re gonna be on a damn island in the middle of the St. Lawrence. Yeah…yeah, alright. I will. Ellen…thanks.”_

_Bobby hung up the phone and hoped he hadn’t just sent his boys into the middle of a complete disaster. They needed a damn break._

**Chapter 3**

Dean jerked awake with a wet finger in his ear and pushed up in the passenger seat with a glare for his little brother. “You think that’s funny?”

Sam chuckled and nodded. “Yep.” He pulled the Impala up in front of a motel and parked.

“Where the hell are we?” Dean rubbed his hands over his face and looked around. “Wait.”

“Buffalo, New York.” Sam smiled and waited for the tirade.

“Dammit, Sammy! You know I hate Buffalo!” Dean groaned and opened his door. He sniffed deeply and glared again. “See that? It even smells funny here. Come on. Turn the car back on. Couple more hours, we can be in Rochester and…”

“Nope.” Sam opened his own door and got out. “You slept through me getting us a room. We’re already booked so stop whining.”

Dean snarled at his brother’s laugh and got out. “There will be payback for this.” He’d put Buffalo on his ‘never spend a night in again even if the world is burning’ list years ago, and he frowned looking over at his little brother arguing with the motel key in the door. He’d never really told Sam why he hated the city so much. Dean snorted. Maybe he should, it would probably convince Sam to never stop there again too. “Hey, Sammy.”

Sam pushed the room door open finally, reached in to turn on the lights and grimaced. “Yech.”

“What?” Dean pushed his brother over a step and sneered at the room. “Fuckin’ Buffalo, dude. It’s evil.”

The room was painted in a gangrenous mishmash of yellow and green, while the carpet was more of a crap brown. The queen size bed sported a dark red velvet blanket that was clearly stained with things neither man wanted to think too hard about, and a tv that looked like it’d been rescued from an ‘I Love Lucy’ rerun sat in the corner with what could only be a bullet hole in the corner of the cracked screen.

“Oh, hell no.” Dean shook his head and backed up. “We can sleep in the car.”

“It’s…it’s not that bad.” Sam moved into the room with a groan of disgust when the carpet crunched under his boots. “Ok, maybe it is.” He took the corner of the blanket and yanked it back to reveal stained sheets underneath it. “Yeah, alright. Let’s, uh…I’ll find us another motel. This is not happening.”

“Car, dude.” Dean shook off the dirty feeling the room had left him with.

Sam snorted. “You may fit in there, Short Round, but some of us are a little too tall to sleep comfortably in the back seat.”

Dean gave him a lopsided, dangerous grin and caught his brother before he could open the door. He pushed Sam against the side of the car hard and bit along his jaw. “That’s not what you say after I fuck you senseless on the hood and pour you back there with me.”

Lust punched through Sam’s gut hard. He gave a breathy laugh while Dean’s hands gripped his hips and rolled them into his own. “I, uh…senseless. You fuck me…oh, shit, that’s nice…uh…senseless. I don’t know any bet…better.” He groaned and dove into Dean’s mouth, kissing him furiously and wrapping his arms around his shoulders to hold Dean to him.

Dean hummed into Sam’s mouth and leaned back after a moment to grin at him. “Passenger seat, bitch. I’m drivin’ and we are not staying in this damn city.” He looked over at the rental office and grabbed the key from Sam. “Also, I’m gettin’ our money back. No way we’re paying for that horror show.”

Sam staggered when Dean strode away and groaned, pressing a hand into his cock to back off the aching need to come. He chuckled and, contrary to his brother’s orders, opened the driver’s side door and slid behind the wheel. He smirked and held up the keys Dean had left without collecting first. “Too bad, Dean.” Sam wasn’t going to end up playing pretzel in the back seat when they didn’t have to. Sleeping in the car was rarely a fun prospect, even with mind-blowing sex. He was just too damn tall.

Dean snarled when he came out of the office pocketing their money and saw the car idling at the curb with his little brother behind the wheel. “Can’t believe I didn’t grab the damn keys. Sam! Move the hell over!” He pulled on the handle of the driver’s door but Sam had locked it. “Oh, you little shit.” Dean stalked around the car, opened the passenger door and dropped into the seat. “Are you tryin’ to make me kill you?” Dean said angrily and then paled when he heard his own words…and then their father’s echo in his mind. He shook his head and pushed it away before Sam could notice the slip and ask.

Sam snorted a laugh and backed away from the motel, not seeing the pained and fearful look that crossed his big brother’s face for just a moment. “I’m tired. You’re tired. We’ve been on the road for fifteen hours and we need a bed to sleep in. Buffalo’s not that bad, you know.” He glanced over and then back at the road. “What is it with you and this city anyway?”

Dean cleared his throat, trying to find his good mood again. The last thing he needed was his sometimes psychic little brother picking up on his terrified guilt. “Witches.”

“Witches,” Sam repeated. “Little more detail? When did we hunt witches in Buffalo?”

“We didn’t,” Dean stretched his legs out and looked out the window. “You were at college. It was me and…and dad.” He cleared his throat again and pushed back up in the seat, trying on a smirk. “Whole coven of them and we didn’t get ‘em all, but we did get the head bitch in charge.”

“Ok, so what were these witches doing that pissed you off so bad?” Sam pushed because there was something Dean wasn’t telling him, and, as he glanced over at his brother, he knew was right when Dean’s face began to redden with what looked like embarrassment. “Dean?”

“They, uh…they were changing men.”

“Into?”

“Other things.”

“What other things?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“What other things, Dean?” Sam stopped at a light and turned to stare at him expectantly.

“Oh, for…women! Alright?” Dean threw his hands up and then crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. “They were turning men into chicks, and, dude, they were NOT nice about it.”

“So they…wait.” Sam’s jaw dropped as Dean’s face flushed an even brighter shade of red. “Oh…my…God.” He started to laugh and covered his face. “You…they turned you into a girl!”

“Shuddup!”

“I bet you were pretty with those lips.” Sam grunted when Dean’s fist thumped into his stomach but kept laughing. “Wow.” He wiped tears from his eyes and started the car moving again. The light had long turned green while he laughed. “So did they get dad too?”

“No, dammit.” Dean snarled. “They were ‘educating’ men.” Dean said it with little air quotes around it. “They wanted…” he coughed and cleared his throat. “…womanizing men…to understand what it was like to really be a chick.”

“What’s that mean?” Sam ignored the womanizing part. He knew what his brother had been doing before they’d found each other, before the hypnotist’s amulet. He had no illusions and he was fine with it. Sam looked back over at him and felt another laugh burbling up from the disgusted and pained look on Dean’s face. “Oh…oh, God. All those times you’ve teased me about being on my period, and they… you...”

“Shut the hell up and drive,” Dean ordered. “I am done talking about this.”

“Holy shit.” Sam couldn’t stop the laugh and was hunched over the wheel, wiping tears from his eyes by the time he pulled into another motel and parked.

“Oughta get two beds and not sleep with you just to teach you a damn lesson.” Dean growled and opened his door.

“Dean.” Sam grabbed his arm, still trying to smother the laugher but he was only human and this was too good. “I’m sorry. Really.” He gave his brother his best puppy-dog eyes. “Do you need some Midol?”

“Fucker!” Dean punched his brother’s stomach again and got out, leaving Sam lying over the bench seat, laughing with his arms around his stomach while he wheezed for air. “I am gonna tie your ass up and not touch you all damn night!” He slammed the door, turned around and found an older, white-haired man in a white shirt with ‘manager’ on the breast staring at him open-mouthed. “Goddammit,” Dean groaned and slapped a hand over his face. The only thing that stopped him from punching the car when he heard Sam’s laughter start up again was the desire to not dent his baby. Little brothers on the other hand…

“I uh…” The manager stuttered, looking at the tall man beside the classic car and shook his head. “Do you two need a, uh…a room?”

Dean blushed the whole time he was in the office renting a room. The manager kept staring at him with a knowing look and would sometimes glance out the window at the Impala before looking back to him and finally Dean had enough. He slapped money on the counter with a snarl. “Yes! He’s a dude and he’s my lover and we’re probably gonna fuck like bunnies all night in your room. You want pictures?” The manager’s scandalized face went a little way toward mollifying him, and Dean took the key from the counter with a smile. “Thanks.”

Sam decided to stop risking his own life when his brother came out of the office and slid across the bench seat to the passenger side. He’d finally managed to stop laughing...again…after an image of a female version of Dean with those brilliant green eyes and full lips wearing a full-on dominatrix outfit while slapping a riding crop into the palm of her hand popped into his brain.  He couldn’t decide for sure if he was horrified or turned on and had had himself another bout of uncontrollable laughter while Dean was gone.  But he choked back the last of his chuckles and schooled his face when he saw Dean come out, figuring he’d egged his brother on enough for one night. Sam watched his brother’s long-legged stride back to the Impala and bit his bottom lip, trying not to start laughing again with that image now burned into his brain.  He figured he’d already earned himself a nice, scorching ass-beating for the night. Not that that was a BAD thing, of course. “Got a room?” He asked innocently when Dean slid behind the wheel.

“Don’t talk to me,” Dean growled and quickly drove around the motel until he found their room. He ignored Sam’s smirk and parked. “Get the bags.” He went to the room and opened the door, flicking on the lights. Dean smiled when he saw the two queen size beds and moved aside to let Sam in. He waited until his brother set the bags on the near bed and then grabbed him.

Sam went with a happy groan when Dean thumped his back into a wall and opened eagerly to the steamy kiss. He tossed his head back with a moan when Dean’s hand pressed into his aching cock. “Dean!”

“Fuckin’ tasty, Sammy,” Dean groaned and spun them, tossing Sam onto the far bed so he bounced once. “Clothes off. Now.”

“Holy crap.” Sam shivered in anticipation and quickly stripped out of his clothes.

Dean kicked the door shut and pulled off his own. He stalked to the bed, climbed up between his brother’s legs and fisted a hand around his cock.

Sam shouted and rocked his hips up into Dean’s grasp. “Fuck…fuck me, Dean. God…please! Need you!”

“Yeah, Sammy.” Dean’s voice was a deep growl as he bent over his brother and fisted his cock. He put his other hand between Sam’s legs and easily slid two fingers inside him, earning a pleasured shout from him. “Gonna remind you who’s in charge around here.” Dean leaned over and bit at Sam’s shoulder, sliding his mouth down under his arm until he could get a mouthful of skin. He sucked it into his mouth until Sam was writhing and crying out on the bed, begging for more and overwhelmed with the pleasure.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

The morning sun shone in through a crack in the curtains and Sam growled in frustration. “Not cool, Dean.” Sam glared at his big brother when he strode out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel and stopped at the foot of the queen size bed to grin at him. “Can’t believe you did this.”

Dean chuckled and nodded. He’d made good on his promise. He’d spent ten minutes when they got into the room frustrating hell out of his little brother, tied him to the bed nice and comfortable and secure, and then…shoved the bags off the other bed, crawled in and gone to sleep. “Nothing too tight?”

“Fuck you,” Sam said angrily and earned a laugh.

“Aw, Sammy.” Dean dropped his towel and climbed onto the bed between his brother’s spread legs. “Much rather fuck you.”

“If you think…” Sam’s voice gave out on a gasp when Dean took his half-hard cock in his mouth and sucked hard. “Fuck!”

Dean sucked Sam’s cock until it hardened completely and bumped the back of his throat and then slid it out slowly to look up at him. “Don’t I always take care of you, baby?” Sam gave him a dumb nod and moaned loudly when Dean pressed two fingers below his balls. “Like I could just untie you and walk away.” He leaned down and sucked each of Sam’s balls into his mouth in turn, pulling gently until his brother was rolling his hips into the pressure and keened as Dean pushed a finger inside him. “That’s my boy,”

Sam rolled his head on the pillow and panted for breath as Dean took him apart. He’d had the whole night on his own each time he woke to look over at his brother and want. The ropes did nothing to curb his desire, only serving to heighten it as Dean damn well knew. Sam gasped when Dean’s tongue joined his fingers. “God, Dean!”

Dean pulled his fingers out of his brother and left him only long enough to get off the bed and dig the tube of lube out of his jeans and then he was back. “You ready for me, little brother?” Sam writhed in the carefully tied and placed ropes. Dean had made sure they wouldn’t cut off circulation, and he’d woken several times in the night to check them while Sam was sleeping. Hell, he hadn’t slept all that soundly to begin with. Keeping Sam tied up and helpless in a motel always made him nervous so he rarely did it, but, dammit…the brat had earned himself a real punishment last night, not a reward just masquerading as punishment.

“Please, Dean. Please.” Sam begged with his brother kneeling up between his legs. He licked his lips needily and watched Dean slick lube over his own cock. “Come on. Fuck me, Dean.”

“Son of a…” Dean clasped a hand around the base of his cock with a low groan. Sam talking dirty was almost guaranteed to make him shoot off too early. He chuckled finally and took hold of Sam’s hips. “I gotcha.” He pulled his brother up a couple inches, lined up his cock and then thrust home.

Sam shouted as Dean’s hard length drove into him and bottomed out. The burn was exactly what he wanted, and he’d have wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist to hold onto him if he could have. Sam pulled against the ropes, not in a bid for escape but just to feel them…to feel that Dean had complete control of everything and dropped his head back on a stuttered, happy moan.

Dean dug his fingers into Sam’s hips and knew there would be bruises there later. He loved knowing that and knowing that Sam would feel them even through his clothes if Dean were to press on them in public. He groaned wantonly and sped up his pace. Sam’s chest was stretched so prettily for him, glistening with a fine sheen of sweat in the lamplight. Dean leaned over him and took one of Sam’s nipples in his mouth, sucking and nipping at it until Sam cried out. He drove harder into him, knowing he was pounding into Sam’s sweet spot with every stroke. Dean knew how to play his brother’s body like a fine instrument, and he loved every desperate, overwhelmed sound he could drag out of him.

“Gonna come for me, Sammy?” Dean knelt back up and started pulling Sam’s hips in to meet each of his powerful thrusts. “Come. Come on.” He took hold of his brother’s straining cock and gave it a few, sure strokes.

Sam shouted his brother’s name as he came and his body spasmed out of his control. “Dean! Shit!”

“Fuck, Sam. So gorgeous!” Dean thrust into him once…twice more and his own release found him. It was powerful enough to arch his back over his brother while his cock emptied inside Sam with his little brother’s muscles clenching in a constant, trembling pleasure. Dean collapsed finally on top of him and gave a soft, gasping laugh. “Holy…holy crap.”

Sam nodded slowly, still catching his breath and turned his head to kiss Dean’s temple. “Forgive you now.”

“Hey, you were asking for it, little brother,” Dean chuckled and forced himself to move, lifting up onto his arms. He twitched his hips, slipping out of Sam and loved the whine of loss Sam gave him. He rolled off his brother with a happy, sated groan and sat up. “Get you outta this and into the shower.”

Sam hummed, no longer caring if he was ever untied and smiled while Dean gently untied him and rubbed his arms. His big brother gave a gentle, slow massage to both of his arms and his legs as he untied each and then pulled a boneless, unresisting Sam up until he had him standing.

“Come on, ya’ big lump.” Dean laughed and steered his little brother into the bathroom.

“S’your fault,” Sam told him with a satisfied smirk and waited while Dean got the water running. He let his brother maneuver him into the shower and the groan Sam gave as the hot water hit him was long and filthy. “Oh…fuck yes.”

“I’m almost jealous of the shower right now,” Dean grinned and grabbed up the soap. He spent a good twenty minutes soaping Sam from head to toe, washing every inch of him with a gentle, firm touch in silent apology for leaving him to his own devices all night. He smiled when Sam took the soap, lathering his own hands and pushed Dean against the wall. “Shit…just like that…yeah.” Dean moaned when Sam took both of their cocks in hand in the slippery slide of his fingers and stroked them together.

Sam sighed as Dean wrapped his hands around his face and pulled him down. He ate the moans from his brother’s mouth along with his own, feeling the thrust of Dean’s hips as he slid alongside him in his hand. “Love this,” Sam murmured and kissed across Dean’s jaw to his neck, licking up behind his ear. “All wet…so hot…the noises you make for me.” Sam licked back up to Dean’s mouth and bit his bottom lip, stretching it out until Dean groaned. “Love listening to you.”

Dean panted into his brother’s mouth and rocked his hips, helping Sam to jack them both in the deliciously tight, soapy grip of his hand. He dragged his own hands down Sam’s back with a scrape of blunt nails on skin that made Sam shiver. He only had moments left, he knew and slicked his hands over the cheeks of Sam’s ass and between them. “Come with me, baby.”

Dean’s fingers slid inside him, pulling him open and Sam came with a stuttered cry. He folded over his brother and stroked both of them as Dean came and growled his release into Sam’s neck. Sam slowed his hand, becoming soft, lazy pulls to drag out the ecstasy until they both shivered and Sam let him go with Dean’s hands sliding up his back. “Love you, Dea.”

“Love you, Sammy,” Dean whispered and held him close under the hot spray. He smiled. “We gotta start the day like this more often.”

“Mmm,” Sam hummed into his brother’s neck and then bit lightly along his shoulder. “Without the leaving me tied up all night and wanting part, thank you.”

Dean chuckled and nodded. “Come on. Let’s get clean and get this show on the road.”

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

Sam patted his brother’s back as they stood at the top rail of the ferry out to Dark Island. Dean wasn’t happy about having to leave the Impala behind in a lot and was now even less happy about being on the ferry, especially when Mother Nature seemed to have decided to throw high winds and choppy seas at them. “Just breathe through it, Dean.”

Dean swallowed hard around the lump of nausea in his throat. “Doesn’t happen on…on little boats…lakes.” He swallowed again and leaned over to watch the waves breaking noisily as the ferry moved toward the island. “This sucks.”

Sam nodded and kept rubbing circles on his brother’s back while he tried not to throw up down the side of the boat. He looked ahead of the boat and smiled. “Nearly there now.” Dark Island loomed out of the gloomy day, and Sam could see the dark bulk of the castle and other outlying buildings against the gray sky.

Dean nodded and concentrated on keeping his insides on his inside, no matter what his traitorous stomach thought. He looked down at the churning waters and couldn’t decide if it was making the feeling worse or not. Dean’s eyes followed the waves and he gasped, rearing upright when he saw a large, dark shape for just a second as it shot through the water. “Shit!”

“What? Dean?” Sam wrapped an arm over Dean’s shoulders. “Getting worse?”

“There’s something down there!” Dean shook his head and leaned back over the rail. “Something…moved under the water.”

Sam frowned. “Probably a fish.”

“The size of a truck? I don’t think so.” Dean looked back and forth through the water for another sign of it. “The bodies have been showing up in the river Sam. They’re being taken from the island but whatever’s draining these guys dumps them in the water.”

“So maybe it’s aquatic? Crap.” Sam leaned over the rail with him. “Did you see what it looked like?”

“No. Just…big.” Dean breathed through his nose, keeping the urge to vomit at bay. He shot an arm out to point when the shadow reappeared. “There!”

Sam saw only the briefest flash of a dark shaped beneath the rough waters, heading toward them, and then something hit the boat with a dull thud. He staggered back from the rail as the deck rocked. “It hit us?”

“This is not good.” Dean held on to the rail and reached back to grab his brother with his other arm. “Get over here.”

“Maybe it just bumped us on the way past…whatever it is.” Sam gulped and looked over the rail again. “Could be a small whale or something.”

Alarms began to wail from the wheel house of the ferry. Voices began shouting and the boat rocked again, much harder and rolled both Sam and Dean free of the rail and across the deck. “Dean!” Sam shouted and slapped an arm out to stop Dean’s roll away. He just grazed the end of his fingers, and then Dean was tumbling away over the side as the deck tilted even more and Sam began a slide of his own toward the rail. “DEAN!”

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_To Be Continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Apologies to everyone who’s been waiting on the next chapter of this. :D I’ve been working on finishing the last chapter of the 4th Edition of the Reader’s Special, my personal prompt-apocalypse, and this had to take a temporary back seat. LOL I’m all yours again though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic depictions within. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own 'em but if I did…they'd never get dressed. Heh heh heh  
> ~Reviews are Love~

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_Sam saw only the briefest flash of a dark shaped beneath the rough waters, heading toward them and then something hit the boat with a dull thud. He staggered back from the rail as the deck rocked. “It hit us?”_

_“This is not good.” Dean held on to the rail and reached back to grab his brother with his other arm. “Get over here.”_

_“Maybe it just bumped us on the way past…whatever it is.” Sam gulped and looked over the rail again. “Small whale or something.”_

_Alarms began to wail from the wheel house of the ferry. Voices began shouting and the boat rocked again, much harder and rolled both Sam and Dean free of the rail and across the deck. “Dean!” Sam shouted and slapped an arm out to stop Dean’s roll away. He just grazed the end of his fingers and then Dean was tumbling away over the side as the deck tilted even more and Sam began a slide of his own toward the rail. “DEAN!”_

**Chapter 4**

Dean rolled off the deck and had a moment of free fall to feel his stomach drop out and then he hit the water. It was colder than he thought it would be in August and took his breath away for a second as he sank beneath the surface. He kicked and swung his arms, trying to decide which way was up. He watched the bubbles leave his mouth and travel over his head and used them as a guide. He kicked hard, pulled with his arms, and just as his lungs gave up and demanded oxygen, his head broke the surface. He gasped in breath after breath and turned in the water, following the sound of sirens and yelling behind him.

“Holy crap!” Dean’s eyes went wide in shock. The ferry was listing toward him, towering above in the water as it heeled over to its side. “Sam!” Dean shouted when he saw his little brother pop out between the rails and plummet to the water a few feet away. He took a deep breath and dove for him through the murky depths. Dean kicked toward where he’d seen him go under, and his hands brushed against an arm a second later. He grabbed hold and dragged his brother back to the surface with him. “Sammy!” Dean shouted as soon as his head broke the surface and grinned in relief when he heard Sam coughing beside him.

“Dean. Shit!” Sam grabbed hold of him, giddy with relief to see him alive and well.

“Cuddle later! We got a problem!” Dean pointed up to the ferry.

“Oh, no,” Sam groaned. Any minute now it would heel over completely and take them under. “Come on!” He and Dean turned and swam, trying to put as much distance as they could between themselves and the quickly sinking ferry. Sam was grateful that it had only been them and the crew aboard the boat. He didn’t want to think about how many lives might have been lost if the ferry had been filled with people as it went under.

Dean paced his brother in the water and stayed within a few feet of him. He hadn’t forgotten that something had struck the ferry in the first place and whatever it was could still be in the water waiting. He looked back over his shoulder at the boat and slowed. “Sam, wait!” Dean grabbed one of his brother’s long arms as it swung past and stopped him. “I think she’s righting herself.”

“Yeah?” Sam turned in the water and smiled. Dean was right. The ferry was slowly beginning to straighten in the water.

“They must have gotten the bilge pumps working, pumping out the water,” Dean said with a happy nod.

“How do you even know what those are called?” Sam asked with a breathless laugh.

Dean smirked over at him. “Deadliest Catch. Come on. See if we can’t get back on board, unless you wanna swim to the island.”

“Uh, no.” Sam waved when a man appeared at the top rail of the ferry, looking out at them. “Think they see us.”

Dean swam back toward the ship and into its shadow, still nervous of the hulking thing toppling onto him. There were several crewmen at the rails now and a rope with a sling at the end was dropped down and slapped into the water near them. “You first.” Dean gave his brother a shove toward it along with a look that said ‘don’t argue with me’.

Sam rolled his eyes and nodded. “Fine.”

Dean watched him pull the sling over his head and then the men above were heaving his brother out of the water a foot at a time. He chuckled as he could hear the sounds of men groaned and cursing under the weight from above; Sam was not a small guy. Dean backpedaled in the water when he felt something brush his feet. “Shit!”

Sam looked down and watched his brother turning about in the water. “Dean?”

“Something’s down here!” Dean wished for his gun or a knife or any damn weapon as his skin crawled with the sensation of knowing he wasn’t alone. He glanced up as Sam vanished over the rail and sobbed a breath in relief when the rope and harness dropped back down. Dean quickly swam to it and hooked it under his shoulders. “Go! Go!”

“Hurry!” Sam stood and took hold of the rope along with the men. He put all his strength into it and heaved with them, desperate to get his brother out of the water and away from whatever had attacked the boat.

Dean rose up out of the water with a sudden jerk and chuckled, knowing it was his little brother’s muscles making the difference as he was hauled rapidly upward. He reached above him and felt his arm grabbed and a few seconds later, he was safe on the almost level deck. “Hey,” Dean said and rolled his eyes when his brother dropped down and grabbed him in a hug. He chuckled. “Maybe we can snuggle later when we’re not soppin’ wet.”

Sam laughed and pulled back to look at him. “You alright?”

“Just cold and wet.” Dean stood with a hand from his brother and another crewman. “What the hell happened?”

“Sorry about that. Captain thinks we struck something underwater.” The crewman ran a hand through his hair and waved the rest of his shipmates back to work. “It shouldn’t have happened. Someone must have dumped something there since the last time we ran out here.”

“Right.” Sam looked out at the river and shook his head. “How long until we’re on dry land again?”

The man smiled. “Be about ten more minutes. You can grab your gear and dry off in the crew quarters. Come on. Follow me.”

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

Dean stood on the dock of Dark Island’s harbor with his brother and thought solid ground had never felt so good. His legs still wanted to roll like they were on a ship and he swayed. “We have to ride that deathtrap back when we’re done. Awesome.”

Sam smirked and patted his shoulder. “It’s not the ferry’s fault. Come on. I think we’re on our own to hike up to the castle.” He straightened his flannel and wished his jacket wasn’t balled up in a plastic bag along with the rest of their wet clothes. “It’s not that far.”

“Hey! Guys!”

Dean looked over as the crewman who’d helped them earlier jogged up the pier to them. “We forget something?”

The man smiled and came to a stop. “They’re sending a cart down for you. We called ahead and let them know you two fellas took a dip in the drink.” He patted Sam’s shoulder. “Captain got on the horn with the company and they agreed to comp your room in the hotel in reparation for the uh…mishap.”

Dean grinned and bumped Sam’s elbow. “Nice. Thanks, dude.”

“No problem.” The crewman shook both their hands and jogged back to the ailing boat.

“Free room? That makes takin’ a swim in the freezing river not suck so much.” Dean chuckled and pointed when he saw a golf cart emerge from the castle up on the hill. “Our chariot cometh.”

Sam snorted and shook his head. “You’re ridiculous sometimes.”

“You’re too big for that little thing. Have to tie your gigantor ass to the roof or something.” Dean smirked.

“Shut up.” Sam slapped his brother’s arm and rolled his eyes. “Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“Halloo there!”

Dean blinked and stared at the nearing cart and the man shouting like he walked out of a period movie. “Did he just say…”

Sam snorted a laugh as the golf cart pulled up and its driver waved cheerfully. “Uh…yeah. Yeah, he did.”

“Welcome to Singer Castle!” The man parked the cart and hopped out. He straightened his brown, tweed jacket, brushed at his dress slacks and flicked a finger at his red bowtie before smiling at the two very tall men in front of him. “Greetings, gentlefolk!”

“Oh, boy.” Dean ran a hand through his hair and tried not to laugh at the man or his horn-rimmed glasses. “Uh, yeah. Hi.”

“I am Marcus Danesby. At your service.” Marcus gave an odd sort of half bow and grinned even, white teeth at them. “The ferry captain tells me you had a spot of bother on your voyage! If you’d just board the cart, I’ll get you two strapping young lads up to the castle and somewhere warm! All aboard!”

Sam ducked his head and turned away to grab his bag, only barely muffling the snort of laughter. “Be nice, Dean. He’s used to dealing with tourists.”

“There are precious few guests at the castle this week end.” Marcus informed them cheerfully with a light accent that could have been Scottish or Irish but it was clear, he’d been in America long enough for it to nearly fade. “You’ll practically have the run of the place. Now, on you go. Oh, you are…quite tall aren’t you?” he said as he looked up and up at Sam.

Dean barked a laugh and pushed his brother to the back of the cart. “He’ll fit.”

“I’m Sam. This is Dean. Thank you for giving us a ride up.”

“Oh it’s no bother at all, Sam!” Marcus climbed up behind the wheel, adjusted his bowtie and started the cart moving once both men were seated. “Generally speaking of course, new guests make the walk up the path to the castle. All the better to appreciate the fine island!” Marcus waved a hand at the manicured lawns and well-tended trees. “But I decided you gentlemen had had enough excitement for one day, what with your impromptu swim and all. Are you well? You weren’t injured at all, were you?”

“No, we’re fine. Thanks,” Sam assured him. “Just cold and tired.”

“And hungry,” Dean put in with a smile. He ignored Sam’s laugh and looked out at the island instead. He supposed it would look idyllic, even on an overcast day like that, if it weren’t for the fact he knew something on the island was killing men. At least now they had a little more to go on. Dean pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and scowled down at it. His dunk in the river hadn’t done it any favors and he couldn’t even get the thing to turn on, Sam’s either. They’d need new phones when they got back to the mainland.

Sam looked up at the castle as the cart drove under an impressive, arched entrance and into a courtyard. It was a beauty of classic architecture in orange brick and stone, and it made him a little dizzy considering just how many secret passageways and doors the place might hold. Even castles built on American soil were known for them, sometimes even more than their European counterparts as Americans were wont to go overboard with, well, everything. “It’s beautiful,” Sam said with a smile when the cart stopped and they climbed off.

“It is indeed a work of art, inside and out!” Marcus grinned and waved them up an impressive flight of stairs to an arched set of double doors. He pushed one leaf open and let the two men stride in ahead of him. “This is rather an off month for us, I’m afraid, so we’re reduced a bit to just enough staff to keep the place ticking over for the few guests we receive this time of year.”

Dean followed him to an antique desk with a wall of keys hanging behind it. “So, no problem finding a free room them.” He gave the wall a quick glance and saw that only three room keys were already gone. It was comforting to know there were so few potential victims to worry about.

Marcus chuckled and turned a register book to them, holding out a pen. “If you gentlemen will just sign in. Now, one room or two?”

“One.” Dean said and gave a smile to his brother.

Marcus looked on as Sam leaned in to sign his name and raised a brow and then smiled more widely when he saw only one last name. “One it is!” He turned and picked a key from the top of the rows and held it out with a flourish. “The royal suite.” He grinned when Dean took the key. “Normally reserved for honeymooning couples. Come, come! This way!”

Sam chuckled and shook his head when Dean slapped his elbow. “Stop it.”

“How long have you lovely boys been together?” Marcus asked cheerfully.

“Feels like all our lives,” Dean replied quickly and ducked away from his brother’s punch.

“Oh, that is beautiful! Just beautiful!” Marcus stopped at an antique, wrought-iron elevator door and waved them in. “It’s sturdier than it looks. In you go!”

Dean stepped dubiously into the contraption. It was barely large enough for four people, let alone three when two of them were the size of him and his brother. “Sardine can.”

“It’s an antique.” Sam ran a hand over the crisscrossing metal of the gate after Marcus pulled it closed and smiled when he turned the old, retro lever to start them rattling up the elevator shaft. It shook and clanked as it moved, and he found himself looking up through the ceiling and watching as they rose. “It, uh…it gets serviced regularly, right?”

“Oh, every six months. Yes,” Marcus assured them and turned the lever again when they reached the fourth floor. He pulled the gate open and led them out into a wide hall. “This way!”

The hall was lined with paintings of classical scenes, women in gowns, men on horseback and the occasional Greek looking statue here and there. Marcus led them to the end of the hall and patted a wide, wooden door.

“This is your suite, gentlemen. If you need anything, simply pick up the house phone and dial zero!” Marcus shook both their hands again and left with a fond smile at them.

“I think he’s gonna send us Christmas cards or something, dude,” Dean said with a chuckle and used the key to open the door. He stepped inside and gave a low whistle of appreciation. “Whoa.”

“Holy crap.” Sam smiled, a little bemused. The suite looked more like an apartment with a sitting room, several plush chairs, a wide, leather couch with a brown fur tossed over the back, a fireplace, wet bar, and a set of double doors. Sam went to them and pushed them open and grinned. “We may never actually get to the hunting part of the job.”

“Huh?” Dean followed him and looked around his shoulder and a slow, mischievous smile spread over his face. “Oh, baby.” It was the bedroom. To the left was another door into a bathroom and what looked like a large, sunken bathtub, but it was the bed that made him drool. It was a giant, mahogany four poster bed. The posts stretched up, nearly touching the ceiling and Dean’s brain immediately started picturing what his brother would look like tied down in the middle of it.

“You’re drooling,” Sam said with a laugh and tossed his bag on the floor inside the door.

Dean quickly brought a hand up to his mouth and snorted when he found it dry. “Cute.”

“Yeah.” Sam turned and wrapped his arms around his big brother’s shoulders. He leaned down and licked his bottom lip. “You are.”

“Mmph,” Dean moaned as Sam kissed him deeply and finally got his head away for a moment. “M’not cute.” He chuckled and pushed Sam away. “Bunnies are cute. Chicks are cute. You’re cute on occasion.”

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother’s grin and went back into the main room to look out the windows there. “We kinda screw like bunnies, dude. You’re cute.”

“Shuddup,” Dean protested but it made him laugh because…some days they sort of did.

“Man, where should we start looking? This place is huge.” Sam shook his head and sighed. “Well, I’m gonna start by calling Bobby.”

“Good idea.” Dean saw the room phone on a table by the couch and beside it, a menu. He grinned. “Call Bobby in a minute.”

Sam chuckled and nodded. “Order me something not covered in grease. I’m gonna take a shower and warm up while you cuddle the menu.” He crossed the bedroom into the bathroom and flicked on the light as he closed the door. It was spacious. The tube was indeed as big as it looked and he realized he might actually be able to stretch out in the thing. Tempting as it was, they had a job to get started on, and he went to the shower stall backed into the corner instead.

Dean was sprawled on the couch when Sam came out and holding a massive burger in his hands like it was a holy grail of food. Sam chuckled. “Are you going to eat that or sing to it?”

“I’m debating,” Dean said and then took a huge bite. “Mmms’good. Wow.” He swallowed and grinned. “That’s some tasty cow.”

“That thing’s the size of your head.” Sam grinned and dropped onto the couch next to him. “You call Bobby?”

Dean nodded and pushed a container over to him. “He’s lookin’ into it. Says the fact it swims in the water narrows it down. He’ll get back to us.”

“Chicken salad?” Sam asked in surprise as he opened the container and smiled at Dean. “Big softie.”

“Shuddup.” Dean snorted and leaned back, swinging his legs up over his brother’s lap. “Just didn’t wanna listen to you whine.” He smiled when Sam rested his lunch on his legs and started eating. It was companionable and relaxed and Dean almost wished they could just pretend there was no job there; wished they could have a few days to themselves just like this to appreciate each other…and being alive. He sighed and bit into his burger before he let himself be dragged down that maudlin path again.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

Sam pulled Dean with him down the hall away from the front desk with a chuckle. “Stop trying to make the guy say something funny, you dork.”

Dean gave him a lopsided smile and glanced over his shoulder at Marcus. “Can’t help it. The guy’s goofy, dude.”

“He’s a tour guide.” Sam rolled his eyes and gave Dean a nudge into an empty sitting room. “Get the door?”

“Yep.” Dean pulled the two sliding leaves of the door closed and followed Sam to a low table in the middle of the room.

Sam unrolled the maps he’d managed to talk out of Marcus and spread them on the table. “I suppose guests asking for maps of this place isn’t exactly an oddity.” He held one side down and smiled in thanks when Dean knelt to hold the other.

“What are you thinking?” Dean looked at the various levels of the castle laid out.

Sam tapped the bottom of the page. “Tunnels. These run all under the island.” He frowned, reading the tiny, tightly-written script on some of them. “Looks like some of the tunnels have flooded or partially flooded over the years.” He looked up and met Dean’s eyes. “Open to the river.”

“So that’s how our big bad’s getting the dead guys into the river without being seen. Son of a bitch.” Dean sighed and leaned back. “I am not taking another swim in that river.”

Sam chuckled and let the map roll back up into a tube before tucking it under his jacket. “So, where you want to start?”

“May as well start at the bottom and work our way up.” Dean groaned and pulled the door open again. “’Cause you know how I love underground tunnels.”

“Yeah. Those always turn out so well for us,” Sam said with a rueful laugh.

Dean walked beside him and brought a hand up to the back of Sam’s neck, just resting on the collar under his jacket. “No splitting up.”

Sam smiled warmly and nodded with the weight of Dean’s hand at the back of his neck. His big brother hadn’t been comfortable splitting up underground since their encounter with a shapeshifter, and Sam knew Dean still had nightmares about that. “Trust me, I don’t plan on wandering off down there without you.”

Dean snorted. “You say that now.”

They found the entrance to the cellars of the castle easily enough, making their way through the kitchens and then a series of storerooms that were thankfully empty of people. The island really was down to a skeleton crew at that point. Dean flicked on his flashlight and saw Sam do the same before they started down the stairs, far too experienced as Hunters to blindly trust that the lights would stay on. It was meager light at best from the bare bulbs spaced unevenly along the hall they walked.

“So…the whole island, huh? These tunnels?” Dean ran his fingers over the old stones as they walked, feeling the slime of age on them.

“Pretty much, yeah. Most of them were dug out by smugglers back during prohibition.” Sam moved up alongside him and reached into Dean’s pocket to pull out his brother’s EMF meter and switch it on. “Few miles worth of tunnels think. It was kind of hard to tell from those blueprints.” He looked down at the meter that stayed stubbornly quiet and let Dean take it back so he could pull the map out of his jacket again instead. They were nearing a fork in the tunnels.

“Which way, Pocahontas?” Dean asked with a smirk and took the punch to his arm with a laugh.

Sam studied the map for a moment and nodded to their left. “Let’s try that way.” He turned into the tunnel with Dean at his back and listened but there was nothing to hear except for their footsteps and the steady sound of water dripping in the distance. “The other way leads around to the boiler rooms for the castle and I can’t see something making a nest in there without being spotted by the people that work here.”

“Good call.” Dean nodded in agreement and shoved the meter back in his pocket, though he left it on. He was sure what they were hunting for was alive and breathing, but that didn’t mean there couldn’t be something else down there that wasn’t. It was a castle after all, and it’d been around for a while. It was more than likely the place had picked up a few spooks of its own over the years.

Sam moved down the tunnel and stopped in surprise when it opened into a large chamber. “Huh. Well, this isn’t on the map.” He looked down at the blueprint accusingly and shone his flashlight around. Several long forgotten crates and boxes were slowly falling apart along the walls and three tunnels opened across from them. “Well, hell. Now what?”

Dean looked over his brother’s shoulder and scowled. “Eeny meeny?”

“Real professional, Dean,” Sam chuckled and shoved the map back into his jacket since it seemed it wasn’t going to be much use. He crossed the chamber and noted that the sparse bulbs lighting the passage seemed to be even more scarce in the new tunnels. “Maybe…” Sam looked up and saw Dean’s back disappearing down the right hand tunnel. “Hey! Wait up, jerk!” Sam jogged quickly after him. “What happened to staying together?”

“Dean!” Sam frowned and ran to catch his brother, keeping him in the beam of his flashlight ahead. “What did you see?” They jogged down several more tunnels, taking one turn after another and Sam skidded to a stop in an intersection of four tunnels as fear leaped into his throat. “Dean?” He looked down each but there was no sign of his brother. “Dean! Where are you?” Sam searched frantically and wasn’t sure which tunnel to try. “Dean!” A soft hissing noise suddenly filled the tunnels and Sam drew his gun in a rush, sighting along the beam of his flashlight. A bad feeling began to sink into his stomach and he wondered suddenly if it had even been his brother he was following and if it wasn’t…where was Dean?

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_To Be Continued…_


	5. Chapter 5

Graphic depictions within.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em but if I did…they'd never get dressed. Heh heh heh

**_~Reviews are Love~_ **

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_Sam chuckled and shoved the map back into his jacket since it seemed it wasn’t going to be much use. He crossed the chamber and noted that the sparse bulbs lighting the passage seemed to be even more scarce in the new tunnels. “Maybe…” Sam looked up and saw Dean’s back disappearing down the right hand tunnel. “Hey! Wait up, jerk!” Sam jogged quickly after him. “What happened to staying together?”_

_“Dean!” Sam frowned and ran to catch his brother, keeping him in the beam of his flashlight ahead. “What did you see?” They jogged down several more tunnels, taking one turn after another and Sam skidded to a stop in an intersection of four tunnels as fear leaped into his throat. “Dean?” He looked down each but there was no sign of his brother. “Dean! Where are you?” Sam searched frantically and wasn’t sure which tunnel to try. “Dean!” A soft hissing noise suddenly filled the tunnels and Sam drew his gun in a rush, sighting along the beam of his flashlight. A bad feeling began to sink into his stomach and he wondered suddenly if it had even been his brother he was following and if it wasn’t…where was Dean?_

**Chapter 5**

Dean pulled aside a slat of one of the boxes and smirked. “Dude. I think this is, like, eighty-year-old rum.” He rose with a chuckle and shook his head when he looked over at his little brother. “Doesn’t matter how long you stare at it, dude. That map’s still gonna be worthless.” He chuckled and strode over to him. “Sam…” Dean’s hand went through his brother’s shoulder and Sam flickered and vanished before his eyes. Dean staggered back a step in stunned shock. “What?” He looked furiously around the room that he was now alone in and brought his gun up. “Sam!” Dean shouted. His voice echoed back to him and he looked at the three tunnels with a new dread.

“Which one? Dammit, which one?” Dean stalked back and forth, staring down each. “Sammy!” He looked at the floor but could see no obvious signs of his brother’s footsteps on the muck-covered floor. He looked at each tunnel in turn and stood in front of the center. “Sam? Answer me, dammit!” Dean started down the tunnel and got only a few feet before his senses shouted at him that he was going the wrong way. He backed into the room again and looked at the other two. “Gimme a damn sign here!” Dean snarled and looked between the two tunnels. “What the hell is going on? Fuck it.” Dean turned and strode into the rightmost tunnel. He couldn’t say why he chose that one, just that for some odd reason, it felt right.

Dean walked as softly and quickly as he could through the tunnel and listened for any sound ahead of him, any sign of his brother’s presence. Sam was here somewhere and he was damn well going to find him. “Sam?” Dean called as loudly as he dared. He stopped and cocked his head to the side as a new noise filled the tunnel. It was a sort of hissing sound that made his skin crawl and meant nothing good. Dean moved ahead with his gun ready and tensed when he heard the hissing sound again. He followed the twisting, turning tunnel and was grateful for his flashlight as the bare bulbs that had been lighting their way seemed to have stopped ten feet back.

“Sam,” Dean whispered and the tunnel felt close and claustrophobic all of a sudden. He had the indefinable sense that they weren’t alone anymore, that something else was down there with them and very close. He moved ahead a few steps, and his light caught a small movement ahead of him. Dean walked more quickly down the tunnel and stopped in the door of a small chamber with more tunnels leading off in every direction. “Sam?”

His little brother was on his knees in the middle of the room with his back to Dean and very still. Dean scanned the chamber and the dark mouths of the waiting tunnels but couldn’t see anything else. He moved to his brother and knelt next to him, putting the hand with the flashlight on his shoulder. “Sammy? Shit!” Dean caught him in his arms as Sam toppled into him. “Sam?” Dean looked hurriedly around as he heard another low, echoing hiss.

“Come on, buddy.” Dean set his gun in his brother’s lap and tapped Sam’s face. “Wake up.” He was breathing evenly which gave Dean a measure of calm, but he couldn’t begin to imagine what would have left Sam unconscious and sitting up like that. “Sammy, please. Wake up!”

Sam jerked suddenly in Dean’s arms. His eyes flew open on a gasp and he grabbed hold of his brother. “Dean!” Sam held on and stared at him in the dim glow of the flashlight.

“Easy! Take it easy. You alright?” Dean watched panic fade from Sam’s face and helped him sit up on his own. “What the hell happened?”

“I…I don’t know.” Sam looked around the little room and at the tunnels and shuddered. “I thought I was following you, and then…then you were gone and there was…I think there was something else here.”

“Yeah, that much I figured out,” Dean whispered when another hiss echoed in to them. “Come on. We need to move. You stand?”

“Uh…yeah.” Sam got to his feet with Dean’s help. He grabbed his brother’s gun and handed it to him and then looked around with a frown. “Where’s my gun?” Sam watched the floor with Dean’s light playing over it. “And my flashlight. What the hell?”

“Don’t know. We’re moving. Now.” Dean pulled Sam back into the tunnel he’d come from. “Grab hold of my jacket or something. We are NOT getting separated again." Dean paused for a moment and snorted. "Hey, maybe I should get a leash to go with that collar of yours.”

Sam had to chuckle a little at that, hearing the grin in his brother’s voice, but didn’t argue and put his hand under Dean’s jacket, curling his fingers around his belt at the small of his back while Dean led the way. “Focus, Dean.  Did you see anything?”

“Yeah, a…I don’t even know what it was. It looked like you, but as soon as I touched it, it disappeared.” Dean sped up his pace, wanting to get the both of them out of the damn tunnels and fast. “Like something was making sure if I looked, I’d think you were still there.”

“You wouldn’t talk,” Sam said softly and couldn’t stop trying to peer into the blackness behind them. His eyes hurt with the effort and he closed them. “The…the other you, the one I followed. He didn’t talk. He just kept running ahead of me and then he vanished.” They found themselves back in the lighted portion of the tunnels and Sam looked down at his watch. He staggered to a halt and looked up at his brother. “Dean.”

“What? Come on!” Dean pulled on Sam’s arm and scowled when he didn’t move.

“We’ve been down here for over an hour,” Sam said softly.

“What? No we haven’t! It’s been like…ten minutes…fifteen tops.” Dean looked at his own watch and his jaw fell open. “No way. We can’t have been! How the hell did we lose an hour?”

“I don’t like this.” Sam tightened his grip on Dean’s belt. “Let’s get out of here. I think we really need to have a better idea of what we’re hunting.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” Dean started forward again, thankful his sense of direction hadn’t deserted him in the darkened, twisting tunnels. He found the stairs back up to the castle and pulled Sam along with him, taking a relieved breath when they stepped out into the storeroom again. “This job is starting to get on my nerves.”

Sam pushed the door shut behind them and blew out a breath. “Whatever’s down there, it’s weird.” He brought a hand up to the back of his neck with a frown as they walked into the kitchens. There was a curious wet sensation on his shirt, and when Sam brought his hand forward to look at it, he stared. Blood coated his fingers. “Uh…Dean?”

“Yeah, what’s…” Dean’s words died in his throat when he saw the blood on his brother’s hand. “You’re hurt? Where are you hurt?”

Sam shook his head and turned so Dean could look. “I don’t know. I don’t remember being hurt. What is it?”

Dean pulled Sam’s jacket and shirts away from the back of his neck and stared while anger flowed through him. “Come on. Let’s get back to the room.”

“Dean? What is it?” Sam slowed, but his brother just took his arm and dragged him along.

“Not here. Upstairs. You’re fine.” Dean led Sam silently back through the castle, grateful they passed only a few people on the way until at last he closed the door of their suite behind them. “Ok, bathroom. Get those shirts off while I grab the first aid kit.”

“Dean.” Sam sighed and went into the bathroom. He tossed his jacket on a chair and pulled his shirts over his head. “Whoa.” Sam stared a little in shock at how much blood had soaked into the collars of his shirts. “What the hell?”

“It’s a bite,” Dean said softly as he came in behind him and pushed Sam to sit on the side of the wide tub. He saw Sam jerk in surprise and grabbed a washcloth, wet it from the tap and wiped blood from his brother’s skin. “Looks like two punctures, but there’s an impression of more teeth.”

“Vampire teeth?” Sam asked nervously.

Dean shook his head. “Naw, more like if a human had Dracula fangs and tried to take a bite out of you. How did you not feel this?”

“Must have happened while I was…what the hell was I for an hour?”

“What the hell were WE for a damn hour,” Dean growled. “Hold still.” He picked up a small bottle and unscrewed the top. “Holy water. Just in case.”

Sam tensed and gusted out a sigh as the water hit the wounds and only felt like water rather than the searing pain he’d expected. “That’s a relief.”

Dean nodded silently and disinfected the bites. The punctures were big enough to worry him and deep enough that he was surprised Sam couldn’t feel them in the muscle at the back of his shoulder. “Does this hurt yet?”

“It feels…I dunno…numb sort of.” Sam shrugged his left shoulder and frowned. “Ok, it bugs me that it doesn’t hurt.”

“You and me both. Numb is not good.  If it starts spreading or you start feeling weird in any other way, you let me know.” Most supernatural creatures’ venom would have reacted with the holy water, but the fact remained they had no idea what it was they were dealing with. Dean taped a bandage over the bites and then slid his hands around the warm skin of Sam’s chest, pulling him back and holding him against him. He put his face in the back of Sam’s shoulder and spread a hand over his brother’s heart to feel it beating under his palm.

Sam leaned into Dean and felt the small tremor run through his big brother’s body behind him. “I’m alright, Dean,” he said softly and curled his hands around Dean’s forearms.

Dean shook his head, not looking up from Sam’s shoulder. He breathed in the scent of his skin and tried to let it settle him. “An hour Sam,” Dean said angrily. “We lost an hour down there and we don’t even know what happened. You got bitten by something, and I couldn’t…” He stopped and pressed a kiss to the bend of Sam’s neck just below his collar. He was shaken. Sam could have died down there while he was taking a damn nap or whatever the hell had happened to them. He put a gentle hand over the bandage on his brother’s shoulder. “It marked you.”

Sam knew that would piss his brother off along with everything else and he smiled. He tipped his head back onto Dean’s shoulder and reached one hand back, scraping his nails through Dean’s hair until he felt his big brother shiver for the right reasons. “Maybe you should leave a few marks of your own then, huh?” He grinned at the barely heard moan he felt against his shoulder. He knew what Dean needed to finish the job of settling him and Sam could use it himself. He felt Dean’s teeth bite at the unwounded side of his neck and then his tongue and lips brush over the spot like an apology and Sam sighed with another smile.

“Think I can manage that,” Dean said huskily and pulled Sam up from the side of the tub. He turned Sam in his arms and tunneled his fingers into that long hair, using it to pull his head down. Dean kissed him like he was going to crawl inside him, tasting every inch of him and dueling tongues as he walked Sam backward into the bedroom until the backs of his knees bumped the four-poster bed. Dean pushed him down onto it, smiling when Sam pushed himself back further and laid out for him.

“You know what I want to do?” Dean asked softly as he crawled over Sam and flicked open his brother’s belt and then the snaps of his jeans. “I want to get the rope and tie you to this thing.” Sam shivered with Dean’s words and lifted his hips so his jeans and boxers could be pulled off. “I wanna tie you up…” Dean tugged his brother’s pants off and tossed them aside before crawling back up his body. “…lick my way into you until you’re begging and making the wood creak.”

“Fuck,” Sam panted and thrust his hips up into his brother’s as Dean’s weight settled onto him. “Promises. Promises.”

Dean chuckled softly and ground his hips down, rubbing the denim of his jeans over Sam’s bare cock until his brother moaned and tossed his head back with the almost too rough friction. “Not tyin’ you down with something in this place that’s already taken a bite outta you.” Dean dipped his head and nipped his teeth into the skin over Sam’s pulse, biting and sucking until Sam whined under him. He pulled his head back and smiled at the new mark sitting just above the dark elephant hair of the collar.

“After we…” Sam moaned and turned his head to give Dean better access to his throat. “…after we gank this thing…holding you to that…fuck, there! Yeah.” He sobbed out a breath as Dean sucked his left nipple in between his teeth and pulled until it hurt. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

Dean smiled against Sam’s skin and leaned up. “Roll over.” He pulled on Sam’s hip and helped him flip to his stomach, pulling until he was lying on a diagonal across the bed. “Hold on to the post and don’t let go.”

Sam wrapped his hands around the base of the sturdy, wooden post at the corner of the bed and shivered while Dean’s nails scraped lightly down his bare back and over the cheeks of his ass before pushing his thighs apart. “Dean,” he moaned, hearing the rustle of clothing behind him.

“I gotcha, Sammy.” Dean tossed his shirts on the floor and knelt between Sam’s long legs. He bent down and mouthed at the curve of one cheek, digging his fingers in and then his teeth.

Sam gasped with the feel of Dean sucking a mark into his backside and pushed his cock against the bed, seeking friction while lust punched through him. “Shit.”

Dean slid his hands into the hollows of Sam’s hips and pulled him up from the bed just enough to keep him from rubbing against it. He licked over the darkening mark he’d made while Sam whined in protest and landed a solid slap on his brother’s other cheek. “You don’t come ‘til I say, little brother.”

Sam buried his face in the comforter and panted moan after happy moan into it as Dean warmed his ass with his hands. The solid slap of Dean’s palm against his skin made his head buzz with pleasure and his cock ache. “God, Dean!” Sam cried out as he felt the first swipe of his brother’s tongue over his hole. He reveled in the feel of Dean holding his thighs open in a vice-like grip while he carried through on his promise to lick him open. Every thrust of Dean’s tongue made him moan and sigh and his neglected cock ached with need but Dean kept his hips just high enough to prevent him getting any friction that Dean didn’t give to him. “Dean, please!”

Dean chuckled and leaned back. He ran a hand up Sam’s back and took hold of the collar, giving it a tug as he pushed a finger inside his brother. He groaned with the feel of the muscles clenching around his finger. “Not yet, Sammy. You don’t get to come yet.” He pulled his finger out and hastily opened his jeans, shoving them down just enough to pull his own cock out. He could see Sam’s hanging hard and heavy between his legs and bouncing with the need to release. “Gonna make you feel it, little brother,” Dean growled in that gravelly, sex voice that made his brother shiver, and he groaned when Sam pushed his hips back in a silent plea to do it.

Sam felt the head of Dean’s cock press against his spit-slick entrance and shuddered with need. “Come on, Dean. Please. Please!” It would burn, and damn he wanted to feel it, to feel his big brother and know that they were alive and safe. He wanted Dean to drive the last vestiges of fear from being bitten down in those tunnels out of him.

Dean took hold of Sam’s hips and shoved into him. He groaned loudly as his cock slid into the tight heat of Sam’s ass. “Fuckin’ hell, Sammy. So tight.”

The breath punched out of Sam’s lungs with the shove of Dean inside him. He held tighter to the post and pushed himself back onto his brother’s cock, taking him deeper and cried out with the sensation of being too full, too fast. The almost over-whelming burn quickly faded into pleasure when Dean landed a fresh slap on his ass. “Dean! God!” He tipped his head back as Dean’s fingers tightened in the back of the collar and pulled. His breath caught again with Dean slamming into him, pulling out and slamming back in. Without warning, Sam felt a stab of familiar pain behind his eyes and the first hint of panic.

Dean dragged Sam’s hips back into his, pulling his brother onto his cock and back off with a loud slap of flesh on flesh. “So fuckin’ hot, Sammy,” Dean said breathlessly and landed another open-handed slap on the already reddened skin of Sam’s backside, just over the bruise he’d sucked there and smiled in satisfaction when Sam cried out. He felt his brother tense under and around him and spanked him again. “Wanna hear you. Come on.”

“D…Dean!” Sam’s voice was clogging in his throat as pain began to crash through his skull and  the beginnings of what he knew now was a vision. He had only moments left and no time to even curse the timing of the thing, but he needed Dean to stop. He had to stop. “Ch…cherries!” Sam shouted their safe word and went rigid as the vision started to take him over.

Dean slammed home inside his brother again, moaning as pleasure rocketed through his body and froze when Sam nearly screamed the safe word at him. “Sammy?” It took a moment to filter through his head, because Sam had never used it before, not once in all the time they’d been together like this, no matter how rough Dean got. Sam had never felt the need to use it before, and it terrified Dean a little that he was using it now, unsure of what he had done that may have brought it on. He pulled out of Sam fast enough to feel the burn and let him go.

“Sam? God, Sam. I’m sorry! Did I hurt you? Are you hurt?” Dean crawled up by Sam’s head as his brother’s hands dropped from the post and curled around his own head into his hair. “Sammy? Did I go too far? God, I’m sorry! I’m…” Dean frowned when one of Sam’s hands slapped out and gripped his wrist hard enough to bruise and he got a good look at his face. Sam’s eyes were squeezed tightly closed and his face radiated pain. “Holy crap.”

Realization dawned and Dean grabbed Sam and rolled him over. “It’s a vision?” The fear of having hurt Sam gave way to the fear of what he was seeing in his mind as Dean wrapped his arms around his little brother and held on to him. Sam was beyond speaking to him at that point, locked into whatever nightmare his freaky, psychic thing had chosen that moment to show him. “Breathe, Sammy,” Dean whispered and carded his fingers through Sam’s overlong hair, offering whatever comfort he could. “Just…just breathe and come back to me. Come on, Sam. I’m here. Right here.”

Sam was sucked into the vision in spite of how hard he fought it. He could hear Dean’s faint voice, but even that went away as light and sound swirled through his mind. Voices sounded in the distance somewhere and then came closer as the kaleidoscope of color slowly resolved and Sam saw a man’s face. It took a second to realize he was looking at a reflection. It wasn’t his face. The man was much older and had a bushy, black mustache Bobby would have envied. The man turned and Sam’s view turned with him.

The vision seemed to waver for a moment and Sam’s mind was filled with confusion. It felt alien, and he realized it wasn’t his. The confusion belonged to the man whose eyes he was seeing through. He knew he had turned away from the mirror and yet somehow, he was still looking at himself. A mirror image of the man stood in front of the bathroom stall and stared back at him. Sam tried to see more of the room, to see where he was so he could have a hope of saving him before something horrible happened. All he could see were stall doors and a white, tile wall. The man reached a hand out toward the impossible image of himself and staggered backward when the image didn’t move with him. Sam felt terror well up in the man’s mind and his own. The image moved, flickering and stepping closer. Its arms stretched out and Sam would have backed away if he could have. He felt cold hands touch his chest and then unbelievable pain explode over his heart. Sam heard the man scream, and then the vision, the fear, and the pain went away in a swirl of blackness.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0- t_ **

_To Be Continued…_


	6. Chapter 6

**Info:** A castle, an island and men’s bodies mysteriously drained of blood…what could possibly go wrong? Post 2x05 “Simon Said” Dean/Sam 6 th in the “BYC Verse”

 **Author's Note:** Like I’d just leave you cock-blocked. Lol Pretty sure the boys would hurt me.

Graphic depictions within.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em but if I did…they'd never get dressed. Heh heh heh

**_~Reviews are Love~_ **

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_Sam was sucked into the vision in spite of how hard he fought it. He could hear Dean’s faint voice but even that went away as light and sound swirled through his mind. Voices sounded in the distance somewhere and then came closer as the kaleidoscope of color slowly resolved and Sam saw a man’s face. It took a second to realize he was looking at a reflection. It wasn’t his face. The man was much older and had a bushy, black mustache Bobby would have envied. The man turned and Sam’s view turned with him._

_The vision seemed to waver for a moment and Sam’s mind was filled with confusion. It felt alien and he realized it wasn’t his. The confusion belonged to the man whose eyes he was seeing through. He knew he had turned away from the mirror and yet somehow, he was still looking at himself. A mirror image of the man stood in front of the bathroom stall and stared back at him. Sam tried to see more of the room, to see where he was so he could have a hope of saving him before something horrible happened. All he could see were stall doors and a white, tile wall. The man reached a hand out toward the impossible image of himself and staggered backward when the image didn’t move with him. Sam felt terror well up in the man’s mind and his own. The image moved, flickering and stepping closer. Its arms stretched out and Sam would have backed away if he could have. He felt cold hands touch his chest and then unbelievable pain explode over his heart. Sam heard the man scream and then the vision, the fear and the pain went away in a swirl of blackness._

**Chapter 6**

Sam came back to himself slowly and blinked his eyes open in spite of the headache pounding through his skull. “Dean?” he rasped softly and felt himself being held in the warm circle of his brother’s arms.

“Right here, buddy,” Dean said equally as quiet, well aware of how bad the headache after a vision was for his little brother. “You alright?”

Sam nodded once and let his forehead rest on Dean’s chest while he let the feeling of Dean’s hand smoothing up and down his bare back soothe him. “I’m ok.”

Dean tightened his arms around Sam and just held on to him. The visions frightened him as much as they did Sam, and he suffered each time he had to stand by helplessly and watch his brother go through one. “What did you see?”

“A man.” Sam moved his arms to hold onto Dean and kept his eyes closed. “Bathroom. I couldn’t tell where. He…there was…I don’t know. It was like a mirror image of him, but not in a mirror, and it…I think it tore his heart out or something.” He blew out a breath and shuddered. “God, it hurt.”

“You felt it?” Dean tunneled his fingers into Sam’s long hair and pressed in a slow massage over his scalp that he knew would help.

Sam nodded again and felt the sting of tears in his eyes. “What’s the point in me seeing this stuff if I can’t save them, Dean?”

“I don’t know, Sammy.” Dean placed a kiss on his brother’s head. “I don’t know. We’ll figure it out.” He moved his own head back a little so he could just see Sam’s face. “How’s your head?”

“Feels like it’s gonna explode,” Sam said and groaned softly when Dean’s fingers pressed harder near the base of his skull. “That’s helping.”

Dean smiled and rubbed his cheek in Sam’s hair. “Fuckin’ scared me, dude.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said and truly meant it. Dean must have been horrified when Sam had used the safe word right in the middle of some truly awesome sex. “Shit, Dean.” He dragged one hand down his brother’s side and cupped Dean’s still half-hard cock in his hand. “I’m really sorry. You’ve never hurt me in any way that didn’t feel awesome. Didn’t mean to --”

“Stop it.” Dean couldn’t help the low groan of need with Sam handling his dick. “Not your fault, man. Don’t apologize for that. Sam, knock it off.” His hips jerked as Sam took firm hold of his cock and gave it a stroke. “You’re not in any condition to…”

“Wanna bet?” Sam pulled harder, squeezed more firmly and felt Dean lengthen and throb in his hand. He smiled. “You know they say sex is really good for headaches.”

Dean laughed a little breathlessly and pulled Sam’s head up to look at him. He could see the furrow between Sam’s eyes that said his head was still splitting and shook his own. “Later, Sam.” He reached down and pulled Sam’s hand away. “When you can join in without whimpering from the pain.  At least not pain from a vision headache.  If you’re whimpering, it’s gonna be because of me. Come on.” He rolled Sam over and spooned up against his back, pulling him in and then tugged the other side of the comforter over them. “Get a little sleep.”

Sam tugged a pillow under his head and felt Dean grab another. “Fine.” He rolled his hips back into Dean’s once and then closed his eyes, finally giving in to the waves of pain in his head. “But later I want that screaming orgasm.”

Dean snorted a soft laugh. “Deal.” He put his free hand back to his little brother’s head and rubbed through his hair until he felt Sam sigh and grow heavier with relief. It took twenty minutes before Dean was convinced Sam had actually fallen asleep and another ten before he deemed his brother under far enough to not wake up if he moved. Dean eased slowly away from Sam and out of the bed. He zipped himself back into his jeans and went into the sitting room, dropping onto the couch with a heavy sigh as he grabbed the phone and dialed Bobby.

“Bobby. We got a wrinkle here,” Dean said without preamble when the older Hunter answered. “Actually, we got a couple.”

“What’s happened? You boys alright?” Bobby tensed and hoped they weren’t hurt. He trusted them implicitly as Hunters, but that didn’t mean he didn’t worry like an expectant father every time they were out of his sight, even more since their father’s death than he had before. “Sam?”

“He’s ok. Something bit him, but that’s not the worst of it.” Dean quickly related what had happened down in the tunnels and then took a deep, steadying breath. “And he just had a vision a little while ago. Saw some poor sucker in a public bathroom getting his heart ripped out by a mirror image of himself.”

“Balls,” Bobby breathed. “Could he tell where?”

“No. He didn’t see anything to know where it happened.” Dean glanced in through the bedroom door and lowered his voice when he saw Sam turn in his sleep. “It’s gotta be another one of these damn ‘special’ kids, doesn’t it?” He heard the silence on the other end of the line and it spoke volumes. “Bobby? You know something I should know?”

Bobby leaned back in his chair and scowled. “Alright, yeah. Ellen called me right after you boys left here.” He took a breath because this was bound to piss Dean off. “Ash found another one.” He looked up to the ceiling and hoped for patience. “In New York…maybe three hours from where you are now.”

“What?” Dean said loudly and quickly slapped a hand over his mouth when he heard Sam mutter in his sleep. He turned away from the bedroom and growled into the phone. “You’re only tellin’ me this now? What the hell, Bobby?”

“Calm down, son.” Bobby scrubbed a hand over his face. “I didn’t wanna borrow trouble and worry the both of ya over what might be nothin’.”

“So how did Ash find him then, huh?” Dean asked angrily because he knew there was more to it.

“He, uh…well, there some deaths.” Bobby groaned and kicked himself for keeping his mouth shut in the first place. “Few people got dead in locked rooms. They, uh…their hearts were crushed in their chests.”

“Jesus, Bobby. And you didn’t think we needed to know this?” Dean rubbed a hand through his hair and punched the back of the couch.

“It just happens to be happenin’ in the same town one of these kids lives in.” Bobby pushed the papers around his desk. “Wasn’t any way to be sure he was responsible or not.”

“Well, I think we can be pretty damn sure now,” Dean said softly. “Sam wouldn’t be seeing this shit if he weren’t involved somehow.” He sighed then, the anger flowing out of him and leaving him tired. “Bobby, if this one’s gone bad too…it’s gonna kill him a little inside.”

“I know, son,” Bobby said sadly. “Just keep an eye on him. You boys got enough on your plate already without worryin’ about this. I’ll have a look and see if I can narrow down your creature with the new info.”

“Thanks, Bobby.” Dean hung up the phone and stood. He walked back into the bedroom and looked at his little brother, sprawled on his stomach with the comforter down around hips and Dean blew out a breath. “This shit never gets easier,” he whispered. Dean shucked his jeans off and climbed back into the bed to lie alongside Sam. He brushed his fingers along Sam’s neck and down the center of his back, feeling each ridge in his spine and then trailed his fingers between the firm cheeks of Sam’s backside.

Dean smiled when Sam sighed sweetly in his sleep. He took a gentle hold of his brother’s hip and shoulder and slowly rolled Sam to his back. Sam went with a few soft, sleepy protests but didn’t wake and Dean’s smiled turned lascivious. He figured Sam had had enough sleep to help with the post-vision headache and now he’d just do his part to finish off the job. Dean slid down in the bed, taking the comforter with him and bent over Sam’s waist.

“Time to wake up, Sammy,” Dean whispered and sucked his brother’s softened cock into his mouth. He curled his tongue around Sam and moaned softly as Sam lengthened and hardened along his tongue. He held down Sam’s hips when they bucked involuntarily and sucked harder. He cupped Sam’s balls in one hand and slid a finger back. He felt the moment his brother woke and smiled around him when Sam suddenly let out a long, broken moan of his name and Sam’s hands fisted in his hair.

“Holy crap! Dean!” Sam reared up onto his elbows and stared down as Dean’s head bobbed. He fell back into the pillows with a gasp. He could definitely get behind waking up with his brother’s hot mouth around him. The last remnants of his headache were washed away on a flood of hazy passion with Dean taking him in deep. He moaned Dean’s name and thrust his hips up, bumping the back of his brother’s throat when one of Dean’s long fingers slid inside him. “Fuck!”

Dean hummed around Sam’s considerable length. He felt his brother start to tremble and crooked his finger inside him just right. Sam shouted and Dean swallowed convulsively around him as Sam came, hips pumping up into his face. Dean relaxed his jaw and let Sam fuck into his mouth as he worked him through his release until finally, Sam collapsed to the bed gasping for breath and his fingers tightening in Dean’s hair. He swallowed again and slid his mouth off, crawling up his brother’s body until he could kiss Sam.

“God,” Sam moaned and licked into Dean’s mouth, tasting himself there. He felt his brother’s hard cock pressing against his hip and rolled until he could get a hand around him.

“Feeling bet…crap…better?” Dean stuttered as Sam expertly stroked him and moaned into his mouth.

“Mmm hmm.” Sam bit Dean’s bottom lip, pulling it out as he moved his hand in a steady rhythm. He rolled a little, slipped a leg between Dean’s and nibbled across his chin and down his throat. “Taste good.”

Dean arched his back into Sam’s mouth when his teeth closed over one nipple and his little brother’s hand sped up. “Fuck, Sammy!”

Sam chuckled and licked over the nipple, moving his head to pay the same attention to the other. “Maybe when we take a shower.” He changed his grip on Dean slightly so he could twist his hand at the top like he knew his brother liked and grinned when Dean’s hips started pumping up into his hand. “You’re gonna need one in a minute.” He put his head back up and licked along the shell of Dean’s ear. “You owe me a screaming orgasm.” Sam flicked the nail of his thumb at the head of Dean’s cock and earned a muffled shout. “Open me up with those fingers I love so much.” He tightened his grip, squeezing Dean harder as he stroked. “Fuck me into the shower wall until I can’t stand and make me come on this cock.”

“Fuck!” Dean yelled and convulsed as he came in his brother’s hand, feeling his release spatter onto his chest and stomach as he gasped for breath with Sam whispering the sweetest filth in his ear. He shivered with Sam easing him through his orgasm until his brother finally pulled his hand away and Dean rolled his face into Sam’s with a whisper of a laugh. “Guess you are feelin’ better.”

Sam chuckled and nodded, dropping a light kiss on Dean’s lips. “You ready to stand for that shower yet?”

“M’thinkin’ about it.” Dean grabbed Sam and rolled so he was lying on top of him.

“Dude! Come on!” Sam squirmed and laughed as Dean pressed their chests together, smearing his come over them both in a wet slide. “You’re like a giant five year old sometimes, you know that? Get off!”

Dean grinned and rolled away, giving Sam’s hip a slap as he stood. “Just giving you a reason to need that shower.”

Sam shook his head with a smile and got up, following him into the bathroom. “How long was I asleep?”

“About an hour.” Dean shrugged, looked at the shower stall and detoured to the big bathtub. “That thing’s not big enough for one of us, let alone two.” He leaned over the thing and turned the taps on with a smile. “Wanted to give this thing a try.”  

Sam peeled the bandage off his shoulder, examining it carefully in the mirror and quirked a brow at his brother’s back. “So, what did Bobby say?”

“Huh?” Dean jerked up in surprise and looked over at him.

“You were worried and pissed.” Sam turned back and smirked. “You called him while I was asleep.”

Dean rolled his eyes and stepped into the filling tub. “Too damn smart for your own good. Fine. Yes, I called him. Get over here.” He sat down in the tub and made happy noises when he could stretch his legs out along the bottom in the steaming water.

Sam laughed and climbed into the tub. The hot water felt amazing as it climbed up his legs and he eased down into it, smiling when Dean took his hips and guided him down to sit in front of him against his chest. “So? What did Bobby say? Does he know what we’re after yet?”

Dean put a hand over the bite wounds on Sam’s shoulder and was glad Sam couldn’t see his face just then. “He’s not sure, but he’s looking into it with the new info. My money’s on giant snake. Something was hissing down there.”

Sam snorted a laugh and leaned back into his brother, listening to the sound of the water running and letting the heat loosen his muscles as it moved up his chest. He had almost enough room for his legs and he planted his feet against the wall and pushed back against Dean with a sigh. “I wish I’d seen more in the vision.”

Dean nodded and rubbed his knuckles back and forth under Sam’s collar. “Nothing we can do about it right now, dude. Let it go.”

“He’s going to die, Dean,” Sam said softly and shook his head, closing his eyes. “If he isn’t dead already.”

“I know, but it didn’t show you enough to find him.” Dean reached over and turned off the water. “There’s nothing we can do right now, and we’ve got plenty to worry about here.”

Sam blew out a breath with Dean’s hands sliding down his chest and let his head drop back to his brother’s shoulder. “You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.” Dean smiled and slid a hand under Sam’s hip, slipping his fingers through the hot water and between the cheeks of his ass. “I’m awesome.”

Sam laughed and then moaned as Dean’s fingers pressed against his opening. “You trying to distract me with water sports?” He angled his head to give Dean more room when he felt his brother’s teeth graze his throat.

“I got a few ideas,” Dean said into his skin and bit down at the curve of his shoulder at the same moment he pushed a finger inside him. He loved the way Sam arched into the touch and moaned his name. He slid slowly out from behind Sam, letting his back settle against the side of the tub and pulled his brother’s legs around his hips so they were facing each other. He slid two fingers back into Sam, smiling as his little brother’s head dropped back to the side of the tub with a thump.

Sam locked his feet behind Dean’s back and braced his arms on the sides of the tub while Dean’s fingers moved inside him. “Ah g-god.” He shuddered and looked up at Dean under his lashes. “Dean.”

Dean leaned back, pulling Sam with him until his brother was sitting up in his lap. He fisted his free hand in Sam’s hair and used it to pull his head down and kiss him. He groaned heavily when Sam closed a hand around his cock and stroked him.

“M’ready, Dean. Please,” Sam panted into his brother’s mouth and rolled his hips back, taking Dean’s fingers deeper. “Want you.”

“You got me.” Dean pulled his fingers away when Sam levered himself up and moved so Dean’s cock pressed against him. He took hold of his brother’s hips and pulled him down in a slow glide, closing his eyes as he slid into him with Sam’s muscles clenching and releasing around him.

“No…fuck.” Sam groaned and dropped his forehead to his brother’s as Dean’s cock moved inside him. “No visions this time. Fuck…feels so good, Dean.”

Dean nodded, bereft of words for a moment. He thrust up into Sam as he pulled him down onto his lap and groaned into Sam’s neck. The water splashed up the sides of the tub as he moved them both, feeling the delicious, almost too much, friction of having only water to slick the way. Sam whined in his ear, curling over Dean and wrapping his arms around his shoulders to hold on. “So good…so good, Sammy. So hot.”

Sam gasped a laugh when Dean suddenly rolled, lowering him into the water until Dean hovered over him with Sam’s legs around his hips. “You drown me…m’gonna be pissed.”

Dean chuckled and kissed Sam as he started a slow, deep roll with his hips. He slid in and out of Sam in a grind of flesh on flesh through the water that left his little brother whimpering and digging his nails into his back. Dean pulled a hand up and wrapped it around the base of Sam’s cock, making his brother cry out. “Not ‘til I say, little brother.”

“Oh, God…God!” Sam shouted and used his feet to pull Dean in harder with each thrust. He’d been so close to coming when Dean had squeezed off the base of his cock and the need was screaming at him now, held in check by Dean’s firm grip. It left him panting. “Dean…please, please, please. Let me. Please, Dean!”

Dean heard the almost frantic tone in Sam’s voice and loved the pleading look in his blue-green eyes when Sam looked up at him. He tightened his hold on Sam’s cock, feeling it jump in his hand and knew he was brushing Sam’s prostate with every thrust. “You gonna…gonna scream for me?” He slammed home harder, ignoring the water that sloshed up the sides of the tub and splashed onto the floor. Dean let Sam hold onto the edge of the tub to brace his body and then thrust even harder until Sam was shouting with every slide of his cock. ‘Please’ fell from Sam’s lips in a constant, breathless stream as his head went back. Sam was trembling under him and Dean put his free hand in Sam’s hair. He fisted his fingers and gave a sharp pull as he thrust home one more time and let go of Sam’s cock.

Sam screamed out his brother’s name as his release slammed through him. Only the weight of Dean’s chest above him kept him from arching up out of the water. He cried out again when he felt Dean’s cock throb inside him and fill him up and the pleasure fuzzed out his mind and took everything away.

“Sam!” Dean bellowed it as he came and wrapped both arms around Sam’s chest, holding his body to him as Sam shuddered and trembled and slowly went still. The sound of their heavy breaths filled the quiet bathroom, and Dean somehow found the energy to roll them over so Sam was cradled against his chest on top of him. “Son of a bitch,” Dean gasped with a smile and gently rolled Sam’s head so he could see his face. He grinned and rubbed the backs of his knuckles over Sam’s cheekbone. “Come back now, buddy.” He kissed Sam’s closed eyelids and felt them flutter under his lips.

“Mmmf,” Sam groaned and smiled, feeling Dean’s lips on his face and a hand brushing soothingly up and down his back.

Dean reached over and turned the water back on, pouring fresh hot water into the tub and chuckled, noting that the water level had dropped several inches. He laughed again when Sam groaned happily as it sluiced over his back before going into the tub. “Feel better?”

“Mmm hmm.” Sam nuzzled his head under his brother’s chin in a silent refusal to move.

“Lazy bum,” Dean said fondly and leaned his head back, getting comfortable. “I ain’t movin’ for a while. Hope you’re comfy.”

“Make a good pillow,” Sam said sleepily and felt/heard Dean’s laugh through his chest. He didn’t have the energy left just then to swat a fly and was glad Dean seemed content to just soak for a bit.

Dean put a hand to Sam’s neck, pressing on the collar and tried not to let worry overtake him again. He was glad he hadn’t told his brother what Bobby had told him. All he had to do was keep him safe long enough to gank whatever was on the island and get the hell out again. He tightened his arm around Sam’s back in a silent promise to himself not to fail Sam again, like he had down in the tunnels. Dean closed his eyes and pushed the worry away, allowing himself to float on the after-effects of one awesome orgasm and smiled when Sam placed a soft kiss to his throat.

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_To Be Continued…_


	7. Chapter 7

**Info:** A castle, an island and men’s bodies mysteriously drained of blood…what could possibly go wrong? Post 2x05 “Simon Said” Dean/Sam 6 th in the “BYC Verse”

 **Author's Note:** …and the plot thickens…or something. LOL

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em but if I did…they'd never get dressed. Heh heh heh

**_~Reviews are Love~_ **

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_Dean reached over and turned the water back on, pouring fresh hot water into the tub and chuckled, noting that the water level had dropped several inches. He laughed again when Sam groaned happily as it sluiced over his back before going into the tub. “Feel better?”_

_“Mmm hmm.” Sam nuzzled his head under his brother’s chin in a silent refusal to move._

_“Lazy bum,” Dean said fondly and leaned his head back, getting comfortable. “I ain’t movin’ for a while. Hope you’re comfy.”_

_“Make a good pillow,” Sam said sleepily and felt/heard Dean’s laugh through his chest. He didn’t have the energy left just then to swat a fly and was glad Dean seemed content to just soak for a bit._

_Dean put a hand to Sam’s neck, pressing on the collar and tried not to let worry overtake him again. He was glad he hadn’t told his brother what Bobby had told him. All he had to do was keep him safe long enough to gank whatever was on the island and get the hell out again. He tightened his arm around Sam’s back in a silent promise to himself not to fail Sam again, like he had down in the tunnels. Dean closed his eyes and pushed the worry away, allowing himself to float on the after-effects of one awesome orgasm and smiled when Sam placed a soft kiss to his throat._

**Chapter 7**

Sam pulled his jacket on and slipped his Taurus into the back waistband of his jeans. He picked up the roll of blueprints for the castle from the table and tucked those away as well. “You ready?” he called and Dean emerged from the bedroom pulling his leather on.

“You sure the manager’s gonna talk to us about the dead guys?” Dean asked, as he had earlier. “Probably not good for business.”

Sam smirked. “He will. I figure all we have to do is tell him we knew one of the victims.” He shrugged. “He’s soft-hearted, Dean. He’ll cave and talk to us.”

“Besides, he thinks we’re cute,” Dean said with a laugh and opened the room door, waving Sam out. The phone rang behind him and he rolled his eyes. “Perfect timing. Hang on.” He jogged back to the couch and picked it up. “Hello? Hey, Bobby.”

Sam smiled. “I’ll go down and talk to Marcus while you talk to Bobby.”

“Dude.” Dean raised a hand to stop him.

“I’m just going to be in the lobby, Dean, talking to the manager.” Sam snorted. “I think I can handle it alone. Anyway…” Sam gave him a lopsided grin. “I’m better with people than you are.”

“Hey!” Dean said indignantly into the phone as Sam left and closed the door. “Stop laughing, Bobby.”

“Oh, don’t get yer pantyhose in a bunch,” Bobby said and chuckled.

“You actually call with useful information or can I hang up now?” Dean snarled and then gave a soft laugh. “Alright, sorry. What’d you find out?”

“For starters, I’m pretty sure I’ve narrowed down what you’re hunting.” Bobby’s good mood fled on a wave of concern. “You ain’t gonna like it.”

“I already don’t like it, Bobby,” Dean said seriously. “It bit Sam and put us both in some sort of damn trance. Tell me you’ve got a way to protect us from that.”

“Yeah. Earplugs.”

“Seriously?” Dean said in dismay. “That’s it? Earplugs.”

“As long as you can’t hear it clearly, you should be able to stay conscious.” Bobby pulled a beer out of his refrigerator and leaned back against his sink. “It’s a Lamia, Dean. I’m pretty sure with what you’ve told me. Nasty pieces of work.”

“Wait. I think I actually know that one.” Dean frowned and then smirked. “Aren’t they supposed to have like the tails of snakes and the upper bodies of hot chicks?”

“Lose the hormones, you idjit.” Bobby rolled his eyes. “From the waist down, they’re serpents, but, yeah, from the waist up, they look like beautiful women with fangs that can drain a man dry. They’re good underwater, like cold, damp places to nest, and their voices are hypnotic. This ain’t no joke, Dean. If she’s already fed from Sam, then she’s chosen him as next on the dinner menu.”

“Not gonna happen,” Dean said fiercely. “Why the hell couldn’t she have picked me?”

“They’re drawn to psychics,” Bobby said softly and nodded when Dean cursed. “Sam’d look like a beacon down there in the dark to her.”

“Son of a bitch.” Dean dropped onto the couch and rubbed a hand over his face.

“You need blessed iron rounds to kill her, Dean.” Bobby walked into his study and picked up the book he’d been looking at earlier. “Pretty much shoot her anywhere with those and she’s toast. Hell, blessed iron anything will do it. Bless a fireplace poker and stab the bitch.”

Dean laughed in spite of himself. “Good to know.” He frowned again. “Bobby, holy water didn’t do anything to the bite she gave Sam and he never felt it. Still doesn’t. It doesn’t hurt. Are you sure about the blessed iron?”

“Balls. The holy water had no effect at all? Ok, that’s…that’s not good.” Bobby sat and pulled another book over. “Lamias are cursed women, usually witches of some sort, so holy water should do the whole battery acid thing with them. But if it didn’t…”

“What, Bobby?” Dean looked at the closed door to the room and wished now that he hadn’t let Sam go without him.

“It means she’s not cursed. It’s not a lamia. If holy water didn’t react…it’s an echidna.” Bobby looked down at the aged, hand-drawn picture in the book in front of him and groaned. “They’re the creatures that make lamias, and they’re even nastier. You need blessed silver and you gotta get her head, burn it separate.”

“What about Sam’s wound?”

“Well, you can make sure it’s an echidna. Find something made of silver and press it over the bites. If it reacts, you’re definitely after an echidna. The silver’ll repel whatever venom she left in the wound and clean it out.” Bobby flipped the book closed with a thump. “Damn, Dean.”

“We can handle it,” Dean reassured their adoptive father, picked up the phone and strode into the bedroom. He tossed the weapons bag up on the bed and started rifling through it. “Lucky us, I grabbed the silver rounds just in case, since we didn’t know exactly what we were after.” He rolled his eyes when he reached the end of the phone’s cord and went back into the living room. “Really missing our cell phones.”

Bobby chuckled. “Just keep your brother close, son, and remember to get some damn ear plugs before you go after her again.”

“I will. Thanks, Bobby.” Dean hung up the phone with a sigh and went back to the weapons bag. He took out the box of silver bullets and his Desert Eagle and quickly reloaded it with the new rounds. He pocketed a second handful for Sam’s gun and pulled a small, silver cross from a pocket of the bag. “Ok, Sammy. Sure hope to hell this won’t hurt like holy water.”

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“Mr. Danesby.” Sam smiled as he approached the desk in the entry hall and the manager looked up at him with a broad smile of his own.

“Good day to you, Mr. Winchester. Please! Call me Marcus.”

Sam laughed and nodded. “Only if you call me Sam. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions, Marcus.”

“Of course, Sam.” Marcus adjusted his glasses and stepped out from behind the desk. “What manner of mystery may I help you solve?”

Sam raised a brow and smiled. “Actually, it is sort of a mystery. You see, Dean and I didn’t just come here to…to, uh…vacation.” Sam flushed slightly at the knowing smile on Marcus’ face and plowed ahead. “We wanted to see if we could learn anything about a friend of ours.”

“You have a friend here?” Marcus clapped his hands together. “How smashing! Who is it? Can I find them for you?”

“Well, that’s the thing.” Sam lowered his voice and let the smile fall from his face. “His name was Tom Landry.” He’d picked the man from among the victims and knew Marcus recognized the name when his face fell into tragic lines. “He was here when he went missing, and then…”

“And then they found the poor boy in the river. I know. I…oh, Sam, I’m so sorry for your loss.” Marcus put a gentle hand out and clasped Sam’s forearm for a moment. “So tragic that one so young should die so.”

“Could you tell me what he was doing? The day he went missing.” Sam gave Marcus his best puppy-dog eyes, glad Dean wasn’t there to laugh and ruin the effect. “I just…we want to know what happened to him. We need to know.”

“Oh, my dear boy.” Marcus shook his head sadly and sighed. “I…” He fluttered his hands for a moment, obviously flustered, and then clasped them together. “I really shouldn’t say anything. I mean…the police have been to the island, and the other de…the other poor men who’ve been…been found…”

“Marcus, please.” Sam pleaded softly. “I need to know.”

“We’re really not supposed to tell the guests, but he was such a nice young man.” Marcus smiled up sadly at Sam. “He was looking for the secret passages in the walls. They’re all over the castle, you know. We’ve found most of the entrances over the years and blocked them off.” He laughed softly. “They used to have the most awful time with guests wandering inside the walls lost for hours and having to lead them back out again.”

“Did he find one?” Sam was certain he himself had located a couple on the blueprints, but the one he had checked had a wide bookshelf in front of it.

Marcus nodded. “I believe so. The last time I saw him, he had a torch…flashlight, I should say…and he patted me on the shoulder and told me we missed one.” He smiled fondly. “He wouldn’t tell me where, but Nathan -- he cleans the rooms -- he said he saw the young man several times on the second floor near the chapel.” He took Sam’s arm again. “But don’t you go looking for it, Sam. Please. That poor boy died, and I couldn’t stand it if something happened to another of my guests. Please.”

“I won’t.” Sam smiled warmly at Marcus and shook his hand. “Thank you for telling me. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course. Of course. Anything I can do.” Marcus nodded and sniffed, putting his cheerful face back in place. “You boys let me know if you need anything.”

“We will. Thank you again.” Sam left him standing with his hands clasped and headed for the stairs. Like his brother, he wasn’t too keen on the idea of riding the antiquated elevator again unless he had to. He pulled the blueprints out of his jacket once he rounded the corner and unrolled them. He smiled. The stairs would take him down the same hall as the castle’s chapel. He’d just have a look and see what Tom Landry had found in the hall that had been so interesting.

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Dean jogged quickly down the stairs in search of his brother and came out on the first floor in a rush. He had a look around and tried not to look irritated when Marcus Danesby spotted him and waved a hand cheerily. “Awesome,” Dean groaned and strode over to him. “Hey, Marcus. You seen Sam?”

“Oh, yes. We were talking just a few minutes ago.” Marcus smiled up at Dean. “He was…well…asking me about your friend Tom. I’m sorry about your friend.”

Dean managed not to look confused and smiled. “Thanks. That’s…thanks. So, where did Sam go? Do you know?”

“Back up to you, I should have thought.” Marcus shrugged. “I did tell him about how your friend had been looking about the hall on the second floor by the chapel. Maybe he went for a look.”

Dean scowled. “Of course he did. Thanks.” He turned on his heel and went quickly back to the stairs. “Stupid ass…wandering off without damn well telling me.” Dean snarled and jogged up the stairs to the second floor. He ran out into the hall and turned just in time to watch his brother vanish into a wall. “What the hell? Sam!” He ran down the hall and slid to a stop near where he’d seen him vanish but there was nothing except for a blank, stone wall. “Sam! Dammit, stop screwin’ around!”

“Dean?”

Sam’s voice came through the wall and Dean put his ear to it. “What the hell are you thinking?”

Sam groaned and put a hand over his face for a second. “Sorry!” he yelled. Sam took out his flashlight and clicked it on, lighting a small space in the narrow tunnel he stood in. “The door shut behind me! I didn’t touch anything!” And it had. He’d only meant to step in and take a look and the wall had ground closed quickly as soon as he stepped over.

“Well, how the hell do I get it open from this side?” Dean asked loudly and glanced down the hall, relieved there was no one there to wonder what they were up to.

“There’s a brick!” Sam called. “About head height. My head, not yours.”

“Think you’re so damn funny.” Dean growled and reached up to feel along the bricks. “Which damn one?”

Sam chuckled and shook his head. “Just keep pushing. You’ll find it!” He sighed and leaned back against the opposite wall to get a better look, trying to find the release inside the wall. “Dean’s gonna kick my ass when I get out of here.”

Dean pushed and pressed at every brick, rapping his knuckles on several and his temper was starting to overtake him when nothing happened. “I can’t find it!”

“Ok. Give me a sec. There must be a release back here.” Sam shone his light along the wall and ran his free hand over each brick and beam, pulling or pushing to try and find the hidden lever. “Doesn’t make any damn sense to hide the lever on the inside of the secret passage,” he grumbled. “Anything?”

“No, dammit.” Dean banged his fist into several bricks and resisted the urge to shoot the wall in a fit of anger. “Sammy, you need to get the hell out of there!”

“I know!” Sam did know. He didn’t tell his brother that one of the dead men had gone missing from this very passage. Dean would just go find the nearest sledgehammer to break through the wall. He took the blueprints out of his jacket and unrolled them again, aiming his flashlight at them. “There should be another door, uh…looks like there’s one two rooms away! South! I’m gonna check it out!”

“What? No!” Dean yelled and banged on the wall again. “Just…Bobby figured out what we’re after! You need to plug your ears with something!” He took Sam’s silence to mean he was waiting and scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s an echidna!”

“Holy crap,” Sam breathed and stared at the closed wall in surprise. “Is he sure? Never mind. Of course he’s sure.”

“Find something to plug your ears with!” Dean ordered loudly.

“I will. South, Dean!” Sam banged on his side of the wall twice and heard an answering two knocks from Dean. He started down the narrow passage and had to walk a little sideways to keep his shoulders from scraping the walls. It was a little claustrophobic in the tight space and Sam tried to keep his breathing shallow as dust swirled up from his feet through the beam of his light. He aimed it down at the floor and frowned. There were footprints in the dust leading in the direction he was walking and Sam realized Tom must have come this way as well.

Dean used the butt of his gun to knock on the wall as he walked. “Sam?”

“Yeah!” Sam called back, comforted to know Dean was right there and he sighed. “Hey, Dean?”

“What? You alright?” Dean leaned his head against the stone to hear his brother better.

“One of the guys who died…he was in here when he went missing.” Sam felt the sudden need to let Dean know now that he knew he was following in a dead man’s footsteps. “I’m following his footprints.”

“Son of a bitch. Hurry up! Get to the damn door now!” Dean’s sense of foreboding rose up to choke him. “And plug your damn ears already!”

“Alright!” Sam picked up his pace and felt around his pockets for something but all he had were the blueprints. He tore off a corner, balled it up and pushed it into one ear. It wasn’t ideal but it would have to do. Sam tore off another and quickly plugged his other ear.

“Every five feet you tap and let me know you’re there!” Dean yelled.

Sam heard him in spite of the paper, though it was muffled and banged his flashlight on the wall twice. “If I read the blueprint right, the door should look like a bookshelf! It should swing out into the room!”

Dean nodded and picked up his pace when he heard Sam knock on the wall a few feet ahead. “Hurry up, dammit.” He jogged along, following the sound of Sam’s knocking until they reached a corner. Dean turned and saw a door thirty feet on. “I see the room! Get a move on!” Dean jogged down the hall, reached the doorway and stopped with an icy feeling in his chest. Sam had stopped knocking. Dean walked a few paces back up the wall, listening hard. “Sam!” He heard nothing, cursed and ran to the room.

It was a bedroom, appointed to look like a medieval museum piece with a heavily draped, mahogany bed and claw-footed chairs near the window. To his right was a massive bookcase that stopped just short of the ceiling, and Dean grabbed hold of the shelves and pulled. “Come on!” He growled and pulled harder. “Son of a bitch!” Dean planted one booted foot on the wall to the side and leaned back, putting all his weight behind it, and, finally, the bookcase shifted on one side and swung slowly out into the room as it ground over the stone floor.

“Sammy!” Dean pulled out his own flashlight and held it with his gun as he rushed into the secret passageway. “Sam, answer me!” He followed it as it turned and paid attention to the floor. Sam had mentioned seeing the dead guy’s footsteps and Dean saw them now -- scuffed impressions of sneakers in the dust and, further along, a second pair. They were larger and clearly belonged to his over-tall little brother.

“Come on, dammit. Sam!” Dean yelled and moved further down the passage. As he neared the end of Sam’s footprints, he realized there was another passage on his left and the dust had been disturbed and scattered about as if in a struggle. “No, no, no.” He rolled out his shoulders and started down the new passage. “That bitch is not getting her fangs in you again, little brother. Not on my watch.”

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_To Be Continued…_


	8. Chapter 8

**Info:** A castle, an island and men’s bodies mysteriously drained of blood…what could possibly go wrong? Post 2x05 “Simon Said” Dean/Sam 6 th in the “BYC Verse”

 **Author's Note:**   So, it’s Christmas week and I’m leaving to spend it with my family! :D Not something I get to do often! Expect a delay on the next chapter. Lol Happy Holidays to all you wonderful people! *hugs*

Graphic depictions within.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em but if I did…they'd never get dressed. Heh heh heh

**_~Reviews are Love~_ **

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_It was a bedroom, appointed to look like a medieval museum piece with a heavily draped, mahogany bed and claw footed chairs near the window. To his right was a massive bookcase the stopped just short of the ceiling and Dean grabbed hold of the shelves and pulled. “Come on!” He growled and pulled harder. “Son of a bitch!” Dean planted one booted foot on the wall to the side and leaned back, putting all his weight behind it and finally, the bookcase shifted on one side and swung slowly out into the room as it ground over the stone floor._

_“Sammy!” Dean pulled out his own flashlight and held it with his gun as he rushed into the secret passageway. “Sam, answer me!” He followed it as it turned and paid attention to the floor. Sam had mentioned seeing the dead guy’s footsteps and Dean saw them now; scuffed impressions of sneakers in the dust and further along, a second pair. They were larger and clearly belonged to his over-tall little brother._

_“Come on, dammit. Sam!” Dean yelled and moved further down the passage. As he neared the end of Sam’s footprints, he realized there was another passage on his left and the dust had been disturbed and scattered about as if in a struggle. “No, no, no.” He rolled out his shoulders and started down the new passage. “That bitch is not getting her fangs in you again, little brother. Not on my watch.”_

**Chapter 8**

Dean tucked his flashlight under his arm for a moment and dug one of the sets of earplugs out of his pocket. He shoved them in his ears and was torn. They’d prevent the echidna from taking control of him with her song but would also stop him from easily hearing his brother if Sam were to call out. “Dammit.” He rolled tension out of his shoulders, uncomfortable with the muffled silence around him and headed down the passage again. Dean stopped in surprise when the passage ended in a hole in the floor.

“Shit.” Dean aimed the flashlight down and saw a drop of at least ten feet. He knelt and swung his legs over as he tucked his gun into his waistband. He slipped over the side and dropped to the floor below with a thump and had his gun back out instantly. There was nothing to see except for more tracks in the dust, and Dean moved hurriedly through the secret passage. Every instinct made him want to shout his brother’s name over and over until Sam answered him. He couldn’t believe he’d lost track of him a second time and it was killing him. The fear was threatening to choke him.

Dean rounded another corner soundlessly and found yet another hole in the floor. He looked carefully down, again finding it clear of creature and little brother and his brows flew up. “Huh.” The hole opened into what had to be the castle’s boiler room. He could see two of the old boilers, and, as he dropped down through the hole to the floor below, a network of pipes leading out in all directions and up through the ceiling in various places. “Maybe we were wrong about where this thing nests,” he whispered to himself. Dean shined the light along the floor and found more drag marks. Obviously, the echidna was having trouble with his six-foot-four brother.

It wasn’t particularly quiet in the boiler room. Dean could hear the knocking of the boilers even through his ear plugs, but it was muffled. He followed the drag marks and kept checking compulsively behind him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being followed…being watched.

The trail led out of the boiler room and into a disused tunnel which gave Dean a measure of confidence. They’d guessed right that the creature wasn’t nesting there but in the tunnels instead. Dean picked up his pace, wary of every moment that Sam was out of his sight with the creature that had already bitten him once and put the whammy on both of them. He turned one corner and then another, thankful for the scuffed and dusty trail that led him through the network of tunnels. His flashlight cut through the inky darkness around him and Dean slid to a stop with a soft gasp as he emerged from a tunnel into what looked like a small cistern and found them.

Dean stared for a moment, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Sam lay on the floor on his back. The echidna was prone between his legs with her face buried in his brother’s left thigh. Despite his fear and the urgency of the situation, some corner of Dean’s mind gave a silent, possessive snarl seeing the creature in such an intimate pose with his brother before the Hunter part of his brain kicked back into gear screaming at him to focus and he shifted his attention back to his target. Her upper body was beautiful, what Dean could see of it in his flashlight -- creamy white skin with dark, glistening black hair that fanned out over her shoulders and down her back. It changed at her waist. Pale skin gave way to dark, crimson scales that covered a long, muscular tail snake’s tail where her legs should have been. It slithered back and forth over the stone of the floor with a soft sound and Dean narrowed his eyes. He knelt and aimed at her head.

“Hey, bitch,” Dean said loudly, getting her attention and smiled dangerously when her head jerked up from Sam’s legs with a wet sound. Her lips and chin were covered in a sheen of blood, and a long, forked tongue flicked out to lick them while he watched. Her eyes were black with glowing red rings and they widened in shock to stare at him. Dean fired as she reared up from Sam and the bullet took her in the throat. The echidna screamed and moved faster than he’d given it credit for, vanishing into another tunnel across the chamber and left a trail of blood behind it.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean snarled and was at his brother’s side in a rush. “Sammy?” He shined his light on his brother’s leg and felt a rush of rage. The echidna had torn into his jeans and had been feeding from the inside of Sam’s thigh. Blood still flowed sluggishly from the wounds and Dean clamped a hand over them, pressing down into the bloodied flesh. “Sam,” he said when his brother moaned softly at the pain. Dean set his gun down on Sam’s chest next to the flashlight and leaned over to curve a hand around his jaw and brush the dark hair out of his eyes. “Wake up, Sam. Come back to me, buddy.”

Sam swam up through an inky blackness, following the muffled sound of his brother’s voice. He remembered seeing a face suddenly loom out of the dark at him and then a sound in his ears that his hasty earplugs had done nothing to stop. The sound, a voice, had flowed over and through him like water and swept away even his ability to call out for Dean as cold arms had wrapped around him and borne him away. He’d lain on the ground, feeling something hot and wet pulling at his thigh in strong gulps that sickened him and had tried to find the energy to fight it off, but he hadn’t been able to move, barely able to even draw breath against the force holding him. Sam gasped and opened his eyes, sucking in a breath in shock and found his brother’s fearful face so close and trying to smile.

“Dean?” Sam whispered hoarsely and frowned, feeling his brother’s thumb brushing back and forth over his cheek. “What…where am I?”

“Tunnels under the castle.” Dean looked out at the dark room and the darker shadows of the tunnel openings opposite him and shook his head. “Gotta get you outta here. Come on. You stand?”

“I don’t…yeah?” Sam put up rubbery arms and clasped his hands around Dean’s arm.

Dean pulled one of Sam’s hands off and shoved the flashlight into it. “Hold on to this.” He took his gun and then tugged Sam up so he was sitting. “Hang on a sec.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the second set of earplugs. “Keep that bitch from getting hold of you again. Hold still.” It bothered Dean that Sam just sat there tamely while he shoved plugs into his ears and as yet, hadn’t shown any real fear about what had happened…again. He tapped Sam’s chin and waited for his eyes to roll up and meet his. “You good?”

Sam nodded slowly and pulled a leg up. “Le’s go.”

“Ok, easy.” Dean stood and brought Sam up with him, steadying his brother when he swayed. “Don’t drop the light. That bitch is still down here somewhere.”

“Huh?” Sam saw Dean’s lips moving but couldn’t make out his voice with the plugs in his ears.

Dean snorted a laugh and shook his head to say ‘never mind’ as he wrapped an arm around his brother’s waist and started him walking back toward the boiler room. He kept his gun out and every sense was alert for the echidna’s return, even if he couldn’t hear her coming. Sam leaned heavily on him as they walked and he could tell, his brother wasn’t feeling any pain from the still-bleeding wound in his leg, like he hadn’t felt pain from the bite in his shoulder. That frightened him too and he wondered just how agonizing it was going to be for Sam when Dean tried cleansing the wounds with the silver cross.

Sam walked in a bit of a daze through the dark tunnels. He blinked furiously to adjust his eyes when they finally encountered some of the sparse lighting that meant they were getting closer to the castle itself. Something was wrong, of that he was sure, but he couldn’t seem to get his fuzzy mind to focus on what exactly that was. Dean was a solid presence under his arm with his hand held tight above his hip and Sam could sense the tension running through his body; he was nervous.

“Almost there,” Dean said more for himself than Sam since he couldn’t hear him. He looked back over his shoulder as they staggered into the boiler room and he headed for where he hoped the door out would be.

Sam shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs and nodded when Dean urged him up a flight of metal stairs. They reached the top and turned and found a heavy, wooden door. Sam flicked off the flashlight, putting it in his pocket and took hold of the handle. He smiled when it opened easily and revealed another flight of steps up into the castle proper.

“Nice.” Dean pushed Sam ahead of him and turned back to pull the boiler room door closed. He yelped in surprise when the echidna reared up in the open door with her mouth open wide and angry eyes glaring at him. “Shit!” Dean brought his gun up and fired into her shoulder as she slammed into him and knocked them both back into Sam and then onto the stairs. One of his ear plugs was knocked loose with the impact and Dean could suddenly hear the echidna’s hissing as her sinuous tail whipped up and wrapped around his chest.

Sam grunted in surprise when Dean’s weight hit him in the back and threw him down. The hard, stone stairs banged into his ribs and Sam rolled awkwardly. He gasped in surprise when he saw what was happening, his brother being menaced and wrapped up by the echidna. As he watched, Dean seemed to sag and his gun dropped to the stairs. “No!” Sam lunged down and grabbed for Dean’s gun as the echidna opened her mouth and reached for Dean’s throat. Sam closed his hand around the grip and brought the gun up. He fired into the echidna’s face. Sam heard her scream even through his earplugs as she reared back and he fired again, hitting her in the chest where he hoped her heart was.

Dean sucked in a grateful lungful of air as the serpent’s tail loosened around his chest and the echidna fell away from him. The queer sort of buzzing that had started in his ears and sapped his strength stopped with a suddenness that left him reeling. “Holy crap.” He watched his little brother stumble to his feet over him and follow the echidna as she fell back through the door into the boiler room. “Sam, be careful!” he gasped and sat up slowly.

Sam pulled his ear plugs out and stood over the creature. “It’s alright. She’s nearly dead.” He aimed the gun at the echidna’s head but there was no need. Though her tail still twitched, her eyes stared sightlessly up at the ceiling. “No, she’s gone.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean groaned and got up with the help of the railing. He rubbed a hand over his sore ribs and grabbed hold of Sam’s arm with the other. “Ok, come on. I’ll come back down and get rid of her after I get you cleaned up.”

“Are you alright?” Sam turned and pulled Dean’s shirt up. He whistled through his teeth and ran his fingers softly over the bruises that were already appearing on Dean’s skin.

“It’s not that bad,” Dean said ruefully and took his gun back from his brother. He kicked the echidna’s tail out of the way and pulled the boiler room door closed. “Didn’t break anything.” He glanced down at Sam’s leg and put an arm around him again. “Move, Sammy. Come on. Up the stairs.”

Sam let Dean lead him up the stairs and pushed his brother’s gun under his jacket at his back when they stepped out into one of the castle’s wide halls. He looked down at his leg when he felt something warm and wet and stared in surprise. “Holy crap, I’m bleeding?”

“Finally noticed that, huh?” Dean chuckled a little breathlessly. He slowed and pulled Sam to a stop in front of the little elevator. “We’re gonna tempt fate and take the deathtrap up.”

Sam sighed and nodded, limping inside when Dean opened the door. “I kind of wish my leg hurt. It’s uh…freaks me out a little that I can’t feel it.”

Dean gave a sigh of his own as he pulled the door shut and started the elevator clanging up four floors. “Pretty sure that’s gonna change. Bobby told me to try silver instead of holy water.”

“Awesome,” Sam groaned and leaned in against his brother, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder tiredly. “Think I lost some blood.”

“No shit.” Dean snorted a soft laugh and curled an arm around Sam’s shoulders to pull him in close as the metal cage rattled up the shaft. “Next time you get the bright idea to check out a secret passage in a castle…” He gave Sam a hard squeeze. “…don’t. Scared hell outta me, dude. What were you thinking going in there alone?”  His voice held more than just a hint of anger born of fear in his last question.   

“Didn’t mean to get stuck in there,” Sam said and rested his forehead against Dean’s warm neck. “Sorry.”

Dean would have given him more shit for it, but, knowing how much pain he was likely to be causing his brother soon, he let it go. Sam was gonna end up paying more than he should for going off without him. Not for the first time Dean wished his little brother followed his orders when hunting even half as willingly as he did in the bedroom. When he had made that comment to Sam one time, the damn kid had actually laughed at him and responded, “In your dreams,” which had led to some really hot sex after Dean got done beating his ass, but that was about all it accomplished, and Dean was forced to give up on that particular hope. Dean opened the elevator when it finally rumbled to a stop and held Sam steady down the hall to their suite.

“Thought she’d be harder to kill,” Sam said conversationally and rolled his eyes with a smirk when Dean looked at him in surprise. “You know what I mean.”

“Plenty hard enough,” Dean said darkly and opened the door to their room. “Strip and go lay down.”

Sam chuckled and headed for the bedroom while Dean went after the first aid kit. “You’re such a romantic.” He grinned at Dean’s rude hand gesture and pulled his shirts off. He realized he was only cracking jokes because he was nervous. He’d been hugely relieved when Dean had cleaned the bite in his shoulder with holy water and nothing had happened. Now he knew it was just bad luck and the pain was still coming. He shoved his ruined jeans down his hips and sat on the bed as Dean came into the room and set the first aid kit on the bedside table. “Wow.”

“Yeah, she really had her fangs in you.” Dean gave Sam’s shoulder a gentle push until he laid down.

“Glad I don’t remember this,” Sam said softly, looking at the bleeding punctures high on the inside of his thigh. “Half an inch to the right and she’d have killed me.”

Dean gave a quick shudder at that thought and took the small, silver cross out of his pocket. He sat next to Sam and rubbed a hand soothingly over his unwounded thigh. “I got a feeling this is gonna suck.”

Sam nodded and caught his brother’s free hand in his own. He smiled. “I’m good. Just do it.” He cocked his head to the side and slid a hand up Dean’s denim-covered thigh until his fingers brushed the inside of his hip. “You can take my mind off it when you’re done.”

Dean chuckled. “One track mind.” He slid a hand into Sam’s hair and pulled his head in, brushing his lips over his brother’s warmly. “Deal. Lay back.” He watched Sam ease back to the pillows, took a deep breath and placed the silver cross over the bloody wounds on his brother’s leg.

Sam watched as Dean pressed the silver into his skin and for a moment, there was nothing but the feel of cool metal. He opened his mouth to say something, and the air clogged in his throat as pain suddenly stabbed into his thigh. It came in wave after wave, pulsing like fire that scalded and burned and worked its way through his leg and up into his body.

Dean caught an arm around his back when Sam reared up suddenly with a strangled scream. “Easy! I’ve got you!” He kept his other hand pressed hard to Sam’s thigh over the cross and grimaced when Sam’s hands dug into his shoulder. Sam’s labored breaths rang in his ear and he cried out again. “Hang on, Sammy. Just hang on. Breathe.” He pressed down harder on the cross, hating himself for the agony he was causing Sam. Dean tightened his arm around him when Sam screamed hoarsely and went limp against him.

“Sam!” Dean took his hand from Sam’s thigh and eased him back to the bed, holding his head still. “Sammy?” He could see that he was still breathing and see the frantic jumping of Sam’s pulse in his neck. Dean let them soothe his nerves. “Unconscious. Ok, buddy.” He leaned their foreheads together for a moment and closed his eyes. “No problem.” Dean leaned back up and looked down at Sam’s thigh. He frowned and moved to get a better look. The cross was where he’d left it, lying on Sam’s skin. Among the blood that had flowed from the wounds was some sort of dark fluid that looked more like motor oil to him. As he watched, the dark liquid slowed and then stopped flowing altogether. Sam’s body shivered and went still and Dean blew out a breath of relief. He picked the cross up from Sam’s leg and smiled. He’d been afraid it would burn itself into his flesh, but the only mark was a faint red impression from him pressing it down.

“Ok, Sammy. How about we take care of that wound on your shoulder while you’re out?” Dean slid his hands under his brother’s shoulders and pulled him up, letting Sam rest against his chest with his face in his neck so he could feel each breath on his skin. “Here we go.” Dean peeled away the bandage from the back of his brother’s shoulder and tossed it aside. “Do us both a favor and stay asleep for this one, huh?”

Dean placed the silver cross over the bite on Sam’s shoulder and held on tighter when Sam jerked in his arms. “Easy.” The black liquid began to emerge from the two punctures in a steady stream, trailing down the muscles of Sam’s back as Dean watched over his shoulder. A steady shiver started to roll through Sam’s body, and then he jerked awake on another strangled scream.

“Dean!” Sam sobbed for breath with the pain boring into his shoulder and shouted into his brother’s neck. He fisted his hands in the back of Dean’s shirt and held on, trying to muffle his cries as the burning threatened to take him under yet again.

“Almost! Just hold on, alright?” Dean put his free hand into Sam’s hair, cradling the back of his head as his little brother cried out again. The venom oozed from the wounds slower and slower and finally, as it had in his thigh, it stopped with the last few drops rolling away. “Ok. Ok. Breathe, Sam. Breathe for me. Slow down.” He dropped the cross to the bed and wrapped both arms around his heaving brother. “Shh. It’s over. It’s over.” He could feel the moisture of tears on Sam’s face against his neck, and he buried his own in Sam’s neck, breathing him in. “I’m sorry.”

Sam tried to catch his breath as the pain left him slowly and nodded. “Thank…thank you.”

Dean gave a watery laugh and pressed a kiss to Sam’s shoulder. “Like it better when you’re screamin’ because I made you feel good, dammit.”

Sam laughed weakly and loosened his grip on Dean’s shirt, moving his hands to hold his big brother instead. “Me too.” He let himself settle into Dean’s arms, exhausted and sore and let his brother hold him. “Maybe you can wait a bit…on getting rid of the echidna’s body. Yeah?”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere right now,” Dean said softly and gave a shake of his head. He tightened his arms around Sam, weak with relief to have him alive and well, if a little banged up. “Nowhere I gotta be but right here with you.”

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_To Be Continued…_


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Info: A castle, an island and men’s bodies mysteriously drained of blood…what could possibly go wrong? Post 2x05 “Simon Said” Dean/Sam 6th in the “BYC Verse”
> 
> Author's Note: Had a lovely week with my family, spent the last couple days after getting home decompressing and gaming with Final Fantasy because…why not? LOL Now back to writing! And Happy New Year to all my wonderful readers, wherever you may be! *huggles*
> 
> Graphic depictions within. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own 'em but if I did…they'd never get dressed. Heh heh heh

**_~Reviews are Love~_ **

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_“Almost! Just hold on, alright?” Dean put his free hand into Sam’s hair, cradling the back of his head as his little brother cried out again. The venom oozed from the wounds slower and slower and finally, as it had in his thigh, it stopped with the last few drops rolling away. “Ok. Ok. Breathe, Sam. Breathe for me. Slow down.” He dropped the cross to the bed and wrapped both arms around his heaving brother. “Shh. It’s over. It’s over.” He could feel the moisture of tears on Sam’s face against his neck, and he buried his own in Sam’s neck, breathing him in. “I’m sorry.”_

_Sam tried to catch his breath as the pain left him slowly and nodded. “Thank…thank you.”_

_Dean gave a watery laugh and pressed a kiss to Sam’s shoulder. “Like it better when you’re screamin’ because I made you feel good, dammit.”_

_Sam laughed weakly and loosened his grip on Dean’s shirt, moving his hands to hold his big brother instead. “Me too.” He let himself settle into Dean’s arms, exhausted and sore and let his brother hold him. “Maybe you can wait a bit…on getting rid of the echidna’s body. Yeah?”_

_“I’m not goin’ anywhere right now,” Dean said softly and gave a shake of his head. He tightened his arms around Sam, weak with relief to have him alive and well, if a little banged up. “Nowhere I gotta be but right here with you.”_

**Chapter 9**

Sam woke slowly and smiled, feeling Dean’s warm, solid body pressed against his back and his brother’s arms holding him tight. He sighed and turned his head on the pillow, smiling when Dean’s lips smoothed over his in a gentle kiss. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Dean leaned back and took a look at him. “How you feelin’?”

Sam rolled slowly to his back, feeling the pull of the wounds twinge in his thigh and shoulder, and smiled. “They ache, but it’s really not that bad.” He threw a leg over Dean’s once he was facing him and hooked his big brother’s hips closer to his own. “How long was I asleep?”

“Couple hours,” Dean said into Sam’s mouth and bit gently at his bottom lip.

Sam nodded and pushed a hand back through Dean’s short hair. “So…” He bit along Dean’s jaw to behind his ear, enjoying the low groan Dean gave him. “Did you sneak out and take care of the echidna while I was out?” He chuckled when Dean jerked against him in surprise. “Two hours. Of course you went down and finished it off before someone stumbled on the thing.”

“Shuddup.” Dean grumbled and rolled so Sam was sprawled atop him. He _had_ gone back down to dispose of the echidna’s body once Sam had fallen asleep after making damn sure nothing was getting into their suite. He imagined housekeeping was going to have a bitch-fest over the heavy lines of salt poured at every door and window, not to mention the devil’s trap drawn on the rug by the door with a sharpie and he smirked. “Dragged her ugly ass into the tunnels and burned it. She reeked, dude.”

“Mmm. That’s why you smell like soap.” Sam mouthed along Dean’s throat and ran his hands down his brother’s ribs, splaying his fingers to make Dean shiver. “Taste good, too.”

Dean put his head back with a happy groan while Sam licked his way down his chest. He tangled his fingers in his brother’s hair and tugged until Sam moaned into his skin. “Thought maybe you’d be hungry by…holy crap.” Dean’s words evaporated with the sensation of Sam’s hot mouth biting gently over his swiftly hardening cock through his jeans. “Not…not fair, dude. I was talking.”

Sam chuckled and rubbed his cheek over the rough denim as he popped the button on his brother’s jeans. “I know.” He reached under Dean and roughly pulled them down his hips until his cock was free and licked his lips as he sent a heated look to him. “I enjoy shutting you up.”

Dean’s brain decided to take the day off with that look in his brother’s blue-green eyes, and then Sam sucked Dean into his mouth and rational thought evaporated. He bucked his hips on a pleased shout and gripped hold of Sam’s hair. “Shit!”

Sam hummed around his brother’s length as he slid him deeper into his mouth and sucked. He wanted to show Dean how much he meant to him, how much he appreciated that he was there to take care of him, even when hurting Sam caused Dean nearly as much pain. He tilted his head and sucked Dean back far enough to bump the back of his throat, loving it when his big brother’s hips jumped from the bed and pushed him even deeper, cutting off his air for just a moment. Most of all, Sam loved that no one but him got to see Dean like that -- completely taken apart and open. He rolled his own hips down into the bed to give his aching cock some relief because listening to Dean shout his name in that desperate, wrecked voice was nearly enough to make him come all on its own.

“Holy crap,” Dean groaned and pulled harder on his brother’s hair, trying to get him to come back up so he could kiss him, but Sam was determined and only moaned maddeningly around him. “Sam…gonna make me…Sam!” Dean bucked his hips again with Sam digging his tongue into the head of his cock and biting carefully over the little bundle of nerves just below it. Sam pressed a finger to the spot just behind his balls as he sucked him down deep and that was it. Dean shouted his brother’s name, curling up to look at his cock buried to the hilt in his mouth and came.

Sam swallowed again and again with his brother’s cock jumping in his mouth and sucked, curving his tongue around him as he slowly came back up until he’d swallowed every last drop. Dean trembled underneath him and his arms dropped boneless to the bed as Sam drew his head off and grinned at him. He crawled up Dean’s still shivering body and leaned his head down to kiss him. “Hi.”

Dean gave a breathless chuckle and opened his mouth, tangling his tongue with Sam’s and tasted himself there with a soft sigh. “Fuck, I love it when you do that.” He convinced his arms to move and wrapped them around his little brother, holding him close while he kissed him. He felt the unmistakable weight of Sam’s still hard cock against his thigh and smiled into the kiss. “Mmm…my turn.” He rolled them over and sat up on his knees. “On your stomach.”

“Oh, hell yes,” Sam groaned happily and rolled to his stomach, feeling Dean push his legs apart and helped when his brother’s hands took hold of his hips to pull his ass up in the air. He laid his head on the pillow and wrapped his arms around it while Dean’s hands smoothed over the cheeks of his backside.

“So fuckin’ hot, Sammy,” Dean said softly, almost reverently as he laid himself down and got comfortable. He blew a warm breath over Sam’s entrance and grinned when his brother shivered in reaction.

Sam groaned loudly with the first swipe of Dean’s tongue. “Fu-uck.” He buried his face in the pillow and took hold of it with his teeth.

Dean spread his brother wide and buried his face between the warm cheeks of Sam’s ass. He licked firmly over his hole and then sealed his lips around it as he stabbed his tongue into his brother and earned a louder groan and a body-wide shiver. He loved taking his little brother apart like this, loved watching Sam go to pieces and just revel in the pleasure. He leaned his head back and slid a finger slowly inside Sam.

“Ah…God…Dean!” Sam pushed back into the pressure with a shout when Dean crooked his finger and brushed over his prostate. He was going to come embarrassingly fast if Dean kept that up; he was wound so tightly already from making his brother come…from listening to him and watching him.

“So close, aren’t you, baby?” Dean hummed into the small of Sam’s back and slipped a second finger into him, groaning when he felt the muscles fluttering. His spent cock gave an interested twitch though even _he_ needed more than a few minutes to recharge. He slipped his other hand around his brother’s hip and took hold of his straining cock, smiling when Sam gave a pleased shout and thrust into his hand. “That’s it, Sammy. Come on. Come for me.”

Sam lost himself in the feel of his brother’s fingers pushing in and out of him in a perfect mirror of his cock in Dean’s hand squeezing his dick and moving with that little twist on the upstroke that made his eyes cross. “Dean!” Sam shouted his name into the pillow and came in pulse after pulse onto the sheets while Dean kept up his pace, working him into a frenzy until he was shaking and gasping for breath.

Dean grinned, a little breathless himself and eased his fingers out of his brother. He pulled on his hip and rolled Sam to his side, pulling his back in against his chest and kissed his shoulder. “Ok, Sammy?”

“Mmf.” Sam groaned and turned his head with his eyes closed for his brother to kiss.

Dean smirked and brushed his lips over Sam’s. “Can we get up and go find food now?”

Sam chuckled and rolled to his back, stretching out so his feet hung off the end of the bed. “You can. I’m not movin’ yet.”

“Bum.” Dean slapped his brother’s hard stomach lightly with a snort of laughter and rolled off the bed. Much as he wanted to stay wrapped around Sam’s warm body, he was starving. “I’ll go find something, maybe some pie, and bring it back.”

“And food.”

“Pie is food.”

“No pie is pie. I want food.” Sam laughed and flung a pillow at Dean’s head.

“Spoilsport,” Dean said and went to his bag, pulling out clean clothes. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll bring you breakfast in bed.”

Sam rolled his eyes fondly and sat up. “I’m gonna take a shower while you’re getting food…and pie.” He ducked his returning pillow when Dean tossed it and chuckled. Sam flopped back down in the bed when Dean left and closed his eyes. He spent a few minutes savoring the leftover feelings coursing through his body from Dean’s attentions and smiled happily. Sleep started to drift back on him and Sam groaned softly before sitting up again and rolled off the bed. He needed a shower.

Sam went into the bathroom and started the shower. He went to the mirror and carefully peeled off the bandages Dean had put in place. The wound on his thigh and the one on the back of his shoulder ached, but it was nothing compared to what he’d felt when Dean cleaned them. “Never hunting an echidna again,” he said ruefully, shook his head and went into the shower stall. He pulled the door closed behind him and stuck his head under the steaming spray with a happy moan. Sam leaned in and let it sluice over the back of his head and down his back, soothing muscles still sore from the agony he’d gone through. He could definitely use a few more hours of sleep.

Soap in hand, Sam started washing carefully around the wounds. He smoothed a soap-covered hand down his chest and over his cock with a low moan as he remembered the feel of Dean’s hand stroking him while he made him come. He smiled and tried to decide what would be the best way to goad Dean into something a little more…athletic…later. Sam chuckled softly and tilted his head back to let the hot water run down his chest.

He frowned when he felt the start of a headache behind his eyes. Sam put a hand up, pressing the spot between his eyes to try and relieve the pressure. He blinked and saw spots dance before his eyes. He staggered back a step and gasped as the ache became the now too-familiar stab of pain that ricocheted through his skull. “No.” Sam groaned and crashed to his knees in the shower. The water sprayed down over his head as he curled over himself and couldn’t stop the vision from sweeping him away. “Dean!”

Light flashed through Sam’s mind, blinding him as sound assaulted his ears. Soon, even the feel of the water from the shower vanished and his body went cold. The light slowly dimmed and, in a rush, Sam found himself in a new body. He knew he was seeing through someone else’s eyes as he had before, and Sam longed to cry out to whoever it was, to try and warn them of whatever horror he would soon witness.

Sam’s vision was still fuzzy, and he urged it to clear as the vague shapes around him slowly took shape. In his fear, it took him one, long moment to comprehend what he was seeing and make sense of it, but when he did, he reeled and voiced a wordless shout. Whoever’s body he was inside, they were walking the main hall of Singer Castle. He recognized the paintings, the marble and stone, and Sam felt a spurt of hope. If the next victim was there in the castle, he would have a chance of saving them. The man looked down and Sam saw two Styrofoam containers as he turned a corner and pressed the button for the old elevator. Sam frowned and realized there was a piece of pie balanced on the top. The elevator clattered into sight and the man pulled the door open. Sam’s frown deepened as he looked at the hand that opened the door. He knew those fingers. The man looked down again as he pulled the door closed and Sam caught just a glimpse of a golden, horned amulet resting on his chest and the fear became outright terror. No, no, no, no, no. Sam chanted it in his head, but it was true as his big brother’s face was reflected back to him in the control panel of the elevator. He was seeing through Dean’s eyes and there WAS no time because Dean had already left to get the food he was carrying in the vision. Sam fought to free himself from the vision, to wake but was helpless in its grasp.

He felt Dean startle with a thump from above, heard even over the rattling of the elevator. Dean looked up, and Sam felt a fresh wave of terror rise up to choke him. Through the framework of the elevator’s roof, he could see a mirror image of Dean knelt there, bent down to peer at the real Dean inside.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean’s voice breathed through the little car and Sam could hear the instant spurt of fear there, could feel anger begin to rise up through his brother. He wanted to scream at Dean to get out and was dizzy with relief when his brother reached across and slapped the handle, stopping the elevator in its tracks with a shimmy of movement.

Sam could only watch, Dean’s horror equaling his own when the mirror image straightened and took hold of the ageing cable attached to the roof of the car.

“Oh, come on.” Dean groaned and turned to give the door a shake, but he was between floors and it wouldn’t open. Dean looked up again and Sam shouted with anger and helplessness as he heard the cable being snapped and then the elevator was falling. Dean’s voice rose up in panic over the sound of screeching metal as the little car fell. There was a tremendous crash, and Sam was thrown out of the vision to find himself back in the shower and sitting in the bottom with the spray now running cold into his face.

Sam sputtered and forced the door open. “No. No, Dean. Oh, God!” Sam scrambled out of the shower and left a trail of water into the bedroom. His head was pounding so hard he thought he’d be sick and wished he could just curl up until the pain eased but there wasn’t time. He snatched his jeans from the floor and pulled them on as he ran for the door. Sam dug his phone out of the pocket, uncaring as he ran shirtless and dripping through the hall of the castle for the stairs and dialed his brother.

The phone rang and rang. “Pick up, dammmit. Dean! Pick up the damn phone.” Fear made him even more lightheaded than the lingering pain from the vision. Sam slid to a stop outside the elevator. He slapped the button. If he could get on before Dean did, he could stop the whole thing from happening. He dialed Dean again and waited. He heard the elevator rumble to life and sobbed out a breath when his brother answered his phone.

“Hey, Sammy. I’m on my way…”

“Dean, stay off the elevator!” Sam shouted it.

“Whoa! Sam! Take a breath. What’s goin’ on?” Dean could hear the barely contained fear in his little brother’s voice and it unnerved him. “I’m on the elevator now, dude. Gimme two minutes I’ll be…” He broke off when he heard a thump above him and looked up. “Son of a bitch.”

“Dean? Dean!” Sam banged a fist into the closed elevator door. “No!” He was too late. He couldn’t stop it. Sam was near hyperventilating as he turned and broke into a run for the stairs. “Dean, get off the damn elevator!”

“Sam, I can’t and there’s something…” Dean looked up at the mirror image of himself and remembered what Sam had told him from the vision. “Holy crap.” He dropped the food, turned and slapped the handle for the elevator to bring it to a stop. He wrapped his fingers around the door and tried to pull it open. He was between floors and screwed. A snapping sound jerked Dean’s head up and his eyes went wide in fear. “No, no, no. Come on!” He shouted angrily and had nothing to do but watch as the image of himself broke clean through the cable supporting the elevator.

“Dean!” Sam heard the sound of grinding, screeching metal through his phone and his ears as he leaped down the stairs four at a time. Dean was falling and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He burst out into the hall at the bottom of the stairs and looked toward the elevator.

“Oh, my God!” Marcus Danesby stood beside the elevator and turned to look at Sam fearfully. “I think…I think the elevator’s crashed.”

“How do I get down to it?” Sam grabbed hold of the man’s jacket and gave him a panicked shake. “How? Dean’s in there!”

“Oh, God, no,” Marcus breathed in horror. “Here. Here! Come this way!” He pried Sam’s fingers from his lapel and ran for the end of the hall. He pulled open a small, arched wooden door and started down the stairs. “This leads to the service shaft for the…Oh my, yes, of course. Go ahead of me.” He sputtered as Sam pushed past him and vanished down the stairs. “To your right at the bottom, Sam!”

Sam heard Marcus and ran. He banged into the wall at the bottom and went to his right. Fear for Dean was choking him, stealing his breath as he pounded down the hall and then staggered to a stop in shock. The door of the elevator was blown out into the narrow hall. Twisted metal and chunks of stone protruded from the shaft like the broken ribs of something long dead. “Dean,” Sam whispered and moved to the door. He knelt and tried to see inside. “Please don’t be dead. Don’t be dead. Please, Dean. Dean?” Sam pulled on a piece of metal, moving it aside and leaned in further, stretching an arm out into the wreckage.

“Dean?” Sam felt around inside and sucked in a ragged breath when his hand closed on what he knew was his big brother’s shoulder. He slid his fingers until he found Dean’s shoulder and curled his hand around his neck gently. Sam could feel the warm slick of blood under his fingers as he searched and finally found the slow beat of Dean’s heart in his throat. He dropped his head to the wrecked car with a thump and fought to not pass out with the relief of finding him alive.

“Sam?” Marcus huffed for air as he reached the wreckage and put a hand over his mouth at the scene that greeted him. Sam knelt at the door with one long arm inside and his head drooped as if in supplication. “Sam, is he…”

“He’s alive,” Sam said in a voice gone hoarse with emotion. “But we have to get him out of here. Please. He’s hurt.”

“Shush, Sam. It’s alright.” Marcus bent and rested a hand on the young man’s shoulder. Though Sam was easily a foot taller than himself, he looked very much like a frightened child just then as he trembled under Marcus’ hand, bereft in nothing but an odd collar, his jeans, bare feet, and still obviously wet from the shower. “I’ll get help. You just stay with him. It will be alright, Sam.”

Sam kept his hand on Dean’s neck. The beat of his heart was the only thing keeping him from collapsing from panic and terror. He needed to hear Dean’s voice, to feel his hands. He needed his big brother out of the damn elevator. He tried desperately to pull some of the mangled debris out of the way, and finally gave up when some still rational part of his brain recognized that if he moved the wrong thing, the whole mess could collapse down on his brother. He forced himself to wait for the help Marcus had promised to find.  Sam slipped his hand back into the car and pressed his fingers into Dean’s throat to feel his heart beating again.  
  
He didn’t know how much time had passed, all of his thoughts focused on willing Dean to stay with him and sinking further into despair when the minutes passed with no sound or sign of movement from his brother.  Only the sluggish pulse beating beneath his fingertips kept him from breaking down completely.  Suddenly there were hands pulling him and Sam fought them. “No. No!”

“Sam!” Marcus realized the young man wasn’t entirely cognizant anymore and knelt down. He lifted the Sam’s chin with a gentle hand and waited for his angry eyes to meet him. “The men are here to help, to get Dean out, but you have to let them. You have to move. Just for a minute. Sam.”

Marcus’ calm voice finally broke through, and Sam gave a slow nod. He moved in a daze, letting Marcus pull him away while three men he’d never seen before in overalls converged on the elevator door. Sam didn’t fight it when Marcus gave him a gentle push to the ground to sit against the cold stone wall. Sam’s eyes never left the elevator.

“Here, now.” Marcus shook out the blanket he’d asked one of the men to bring and draped it over Sam’s bare shoulders. He tugged it closed over his chest and picked up the towel he’d also asked for. “Dean will be fine. You must have faith, my boy.”

Sam nodded numbly and didn’t register at first that Marcus was rubbing a towel over his head, drying his still wet hair. He blinked and looked up at the man. “Marcus?”

“There you are. Hello, Sam.” Marcus smiled and gave Sam’s hair a last brush with the towel before setting it aside. Sam’s eyes looked a little more aware than they had a few minutes ago. Marcus knew the signs of shock when he saw them, and wasn’t surprised that the young man had escaped into his head for a little while. He squeezed Sam’s shoulder under the blanket to offer him comfort and gestured to the elevator. “They’ll have him out of there in no time, and we’ve a doctor staying with us just now. He was out on the river for a bit of a pleasure cruise, but I’ve called him back. He’ll set Dean to rights in quick order, you’ll see.”

Sam pulled on the blanket, watching the men as they pulled and bent the remains of the elevator out of the way to reach his brother and shuddered. “I can’t lose him,” he whispered. “Not…not after dad. I can’t.”

“Hush now. You won’t,” Marcus said equally as quiet and slid an arm over the boy’s shoulders. His heart broke a little with the realization that Sam had lost his father recently and knew he would do whatever it took to make sure his partner emerged from this disaster unscathed. He looked back up when one of the men shouted and squeezed Sam again. “There now! They’ve reached him! Just you wait, now. Won’t be long.”

Sam was vibrating with the need to touch his brother again. He wouldn’t feel settled with himself until he could hold Dean and know that he was alive. He watched the men as they burst into a flurry of motion and sucked in a breath with his first sight of Dean’s spiked hair in the overhead lights. “Dean.” Sam lurched to his feet with Marcus’ help and would have rushed over if not for the older man’s grasp of his arms.

“Let them work, Sam.” Marcus pulled and held him back. “You can go to him once they have him out. Patience, son. Another minute.” It was a bit like holding back a wild animal in need of its mate, the way Sam vibrated under his hands with barely restrained panic.

Sam watched the men as they slowly, carefully pulled his brother from the wreckage an inch at a time. The lights showed the blood coloring Dean’s head and shoulders and the way Dean’s arm flopped bonelessly out to wave as they moved him broke Sam’s heart a little more. He shook his head and pulled free of Marcus as they laid his brother onto the floor of the hall. “Dean.” Sam dropped beside him and leaned over his head, curving a hand through the blood on Dean’s jaw. He dropped his forehead to his big brother’s and couldn’t stop the ragged sob that bubbled up out of him.

“Thank you, lads,” Marcus patted the arms of the men who’d helped and sighed sadly. “Albert, another blanket, if you please. And, Jacob, would you be so kind as to bring down the stretcher from the infirmary?” He smiled as the men nodded and jogged away. Marcus knelt beside Sam again and patted his shoulder. “There you are, son. He’ll be fine now.”

Sam knew Marcus was trying to be comforting, but the only thing he wanted to hear just then were the soft breaths whispering against his cheek from Dean’s parted lips. He rested his hand lightly on his brother’s throat to feel the rhythm of his heart and finally pulled his head back enough to get a look at him and see how bad the damage was. “Dean?” Sam whispered and turned his head just enough to see the long gash that started above his left eye and ran into his hair above his ear, the culprit responsible for all the blood coating Dean’s head and shoulders, and likely why he was still unconscious.

“Doctor Flagg is here, Sam.” Marcus patted the young man’s shoulder again, touched with the gentle, loving way Sam held his lover’s face. “Let him have a look now, alright?”

“That boy’s in shock,” Dr. Flagg pushed his glasses up his nose and smiled kindly when Sam turned to look up at him.

The doctor was a youngish sort of man with a head of wild, curly blonde hair, red-rimmed glasses, and was wearing a beat up pair of jeans and a Metallica t-shirt. Sam couldn’t help the smirk with the thought that Dean would probably like the guy when he woke up.

“Sam is it?” Dr. Flagg knelt and set his heavy black medical bag beside him. “You can stay there if you like. I’ve got room, but look up for me, hmm?” The doctor put a finger under Sam’s jaw and tipped his head up, watching the light move over glazed, blue-green eyes. “Yep. Shock. You’ll be alright. Now then, let’s just see about your friend, eh?”

Sam was relieved the doctor wasn’t going to make him move and kept his hands on Dean’s shoulder while the man checked him over. He knew from experience he was in shock, could feel the strange sort of disassociation that always accompanied it, along with the chill that seemed to settle into his bones, but none of that mattered until Dean opened his eyes and looked at him. Until then, Sam didn’t give a damn what happened to him. He needed his big brother not to die because he was too slow to save him. “He’ll be alright, won’t he?”

Doctor Flagg ran his hands carefully down Dean’s arms and legs. Satisfied that there were no broken bones, he moved up to his torso and pressed gently, accounting for each rib one at a time. “Nothing broken.” He glanced over his shoulder at the remains of the elevator and whistled softly. “It’s a damn miracle, considering.” Dr. Flagg glanced up and nodded when the men returned. “Over here, quickly now. Let’s get this young man off the cold floor, eh?”

Sam finally allowed himself to be pulled up from his brother’s side only because they were going to move him, but he kept one of Dean’s hands in his own. “He’s still unconscious.”

“That looks like it was a good knock on the head, Sam.” The doctor smiled and shrugged. “He’ll wake up when he’s ready. Mr. Danesby, when’s the ferry come back here? I’d really like to get him to a hospital for x-rays.”

“Oh, not until tomorrow, I’m afraid.” Marcus wrung his hands together worriedly. “I could call for a helicopter. I believe there’s room on the south lawn for one of those to land.”

The doctor shook his head and stepped back so the men could lift Dean onto the stretcher and then pick it up. “Naw, tomorrow’ll be fine, I think. We’ll just have to keep a close eye on him overnight.” He looked over and smiled at Sam. “Don’t think that’s gonna be a problem. It’s a good thing that deathtrap of an elevator’s so small. If it were bigger, he’d have more room to be knocked around when it fell.”

Sam nodded and followed as the men moved with the stretcher. He was loathe to even allow Dean out of his sight now that he knew someone was after him…someone like himself. The guilt gnawed at him as he followed the procession upstairs.

“We’re going to the infirmary,” Marcus told Sam and kept a light hand at his elbow over the blanket, using the touch to steer him, not that he need have worried. The boy wasn’t allowing the stretcher with his brother to move more than a few feet from him. “I’m sure he’ll wake soon, my boy.”

Sam nodded and swallowed, trying to hold onto that. He took little notice of the interior of the infirmary beyond noting that it had once been some sort of small dining hall that was now outfitted with several beds that looked like they belonged in a hospital, trays of cloth-covered equipment, monitors, and a long row of cabinets against the wall. He looked down in surprise when a glass was pressed into his hand. “What?”

“Drink it, son. Please.” Marcus took Sam’s hand and folded it around the glass of orange juice.

“Doctor’s orders, Sam.” Doctor Flagg smiled at him and nodded. “You’re in shock. The juice’ll help. Drink it and I won’t put you in the next bed over, that is, if you get around to stringing more than two words together into a sentence.”

Sam stared wide-eyed for a moment and then looked at his brother. “Thanks,” he whispered and took the glass, drinking the juice down in long gulps. He handed the glass back to Marcus and took a deep breath. He did feel slightly better, more alert, after drinking it, and he took Dean’s hand in his again while Dr. Flagg tugged his brother’s shirt up and gave another low whistle. “Oh, God.”

“Hey, it’s alright.” Dr. Flagg quickly assured Sam when the bruising up the left side of Dean’s torso was revealed. “Nothin’ broken in there. He just got knocked around a little. Don’t freak out on me now.”

Sam shook himself. “Sorry. No, I’m…I’m alright.”

“Hey! Someone get this guy a lollipop. That was almost a whole sentence!” Flagg chuckled.

Sam gave him a disgusted face and then let a soft laugh out. “I am feeling better, thank you.” He took the wet rag Marcus held out and brushed it over Dean’s face gently, clearing some of the blood away. “I just…seeing…I mean, hearing it fall.” Sam shook his head softly.

“Hey, I’d have been worried if you weren’t shaken up by that.” Flagg pulled Dean’s shirt back down and patted his hip. “I’ll get some ice for that bruising. You clean his head so I can get a better look at that cut.”

“No problem.” Sam bent to his task and had Dean’s face and neck cleaned by the time the doctor returned. It was oddly comforting that Marcus stayed at his side the whole time, even while Dr. Flagg put a neat row of seven stitches in Dean’s head. He arranged the bags of ice over his brother’s chest, and finally Dean was as patched up as he was going to get until he woke up.

“I need to go check on some things, son,” Marcus said and patted Sam’s shoulder. “But I’ll be back soon. You stay with him, of course.” He smiled up at the young man and then left.

Sam eased a hip onto the side of Dean’s bed while the doctor left the room and rested a hand over his brother’s heart. “Dean. I…I really need you to wake up now.” He ducked his head and then bent, placing his forehead next to his hand on Dean’s chest and just breathed in the smell of him. “Please wake up.”

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_To Be Continued…_


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Info: A castle, an island and men’s bodies mysteriously drained of blood…what could possibly go wrong? Post 2x05 “Simon Said” Dean/Sam 6th in the “BYC Verse”
> 
> Author's Note: Delays on chapters are on account of work on my new novels and writing reward stories in between chapters of this. Lol 
> 
> Remember: You can find me on Amazon as “Kurrie Hoyt”. I know my Supernatural family supports me in my endeavors as an Indie Author and I thank you all. <3 You’re brilliant! I have a book signing next month at a Barnes and Noble here in Roanoke, VA. If you’re anywhere close and want to come by for an autograph, check my website blog for details! Kurrie hoyt (dot) webs (dot) com
> 
> Graphic depictions within. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own 'em but if I did…they'd never get dressed. Heh heh heh  
> ~Reviews are Love~

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_Flagg pulled Dean’s shirt back down and patted his hip. “I’ll get some ice for that bruising. You clean his head so I can get a better look at that cut.”_

_“No problem.” Sam bent to his task and had Dean’s face and neck cleaned by the time the doctor returned. It was oddly comforting that Marcus stayed at his side the whole time, even while Dr. Flagg put a neat row of seven stitches in Dean’s head. He arranged the bags of ice over his brother’s chest, and finally Dean was as patched up as he was going to get until he woke up._

_“I need to go check on some things, son,” Marcus said and patted Sam’s shoulder. “But I’ll be back soon. You stay with him, of course.” He smiled up at the young man and then left._

_Sam eased a hip onto the side of Dean’s bed while the doctor left the room and rested a hand over his brother’s heart. “Dean. I…I really need you to wake up now.” He ducked his head and then bent, placing his forehead next to his hand on Dean’s chest and just breathed in the smell of him. “Please wake up.”_

**Chapter 10**

Dean came back to the world slowly. It was quiet. He was warm and he hurt and there was a weight on his chest. While he tried to convince his eyes to open, he brought a hand up to his chest and smiled when he felt long, soft hair under his fingers and knew who it was. “Sammy,” he whispered and finally managed to blink and look down. His little brother looked to be asleep sitting on the side of the bed with his head on Dean’s chest.

“I’d let him sleep a little longer.”

Dean’s head jerked over at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, and it cost him as pain ricocheted through his skull. He groaned and tried to focus on the shadowy person a few feet away. “Who…”

“I’m Doctor Flagg.” The doctor smiled and moved closer to the bed while keeping his voice low. “They pulled you out of the wrecked elevator and I patched you up with a little help from your partner.” He took Dean’s hand gently and curled his fingers around his wrist to feel for his pulse. “He was in shock. Quite deep into it, I’m afraid. I was almost ready to hook him up to an IV when he finally fell asleep on you.” He smirked. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Dean shook his head and curved his other hand around the back of Sam’s neck. “Don’t really remember what happened. Why’s my head hurt?” he asked, keeping his voice low both to avoid disturbing Sam and because he was more than a little afraid of what any sound more than a whisper might do to the pounding in his head. He groaned and pulled his hand back from the doctor to press on the side of his chest. “And my friggin ribs, ow. Holy crap.”

“You have some pretty impressive bruising on your chest, and I put seven stitches in your head.” Flagg smiled and shrugged at his surprised look. “All things considered, you’re a very lucky young man.”

Dean snorted softly, letting his fingers slip under the collar around his brother’s neck to warm them against his skin. “Soon as I knew the damn thing was falling, I laid down on the floor. Well, as much as I could. Thing’s the size of a tuna can.” He looked down at his brother again and realized Sam was shirtless under the blanket draped over him. “How come he’s half-naked?”

Flagg chuckled. “I gather he ran right out of the shower when he heard the elevator crashing or something to that effect. He did manage to get his jeans on.” He patted Dean’s leg under the blanket. “I’ll just go find some juice for him when he wakes, and for you as well. Then I’ll want to check you over before I let you go back to your room.”

Dean watched him leave and breathed out a sigh before sliding both hands under the blanket to feel Sam’s skin under his palms. “Sammy,” he said softly and leaned his head up enough to kiss his brother’s forehead. He smiled with Sam’s sleepy, snuffled breaths against him and wasn’t surprised when he suddenly jerked awake to look at him with wide eyes.

“Dean!” Sam stared  and then lunged forward, taking hold of Dean’s face and kissing him desperately with all the fear he’d felt pouring out between them.

“Sam! I…mmf…” Dean gave up trying to talk and laughed into the kiss until Sam calmed a little and finally let him have some air. “Better?”

“No.” Sam dropped his head into Dean’s neck and shook.

Dean felt the tremor run through his brother and wrapped his arms around him to hold him as tightly as he could in deference to his bruised ribs. It didn’t take a genius to imagine how terrifying it had to have been to have to look at Dean, unconscious in another hospital bed after a horrific accident. “I’m alright, buddy. I’m right here. Hey. Take a breath. Come on and…crap, ow! Don’t squeeze so tight!”

Sam loosened his grip with Dean’s soft laugh in his ear and smiled. He took a few deep breaths and leaned back up to look at him. “Sorry. It’s just, you were…”

“I know.” Dean pulled his brother’s head down and kissed him again, this time less frantically and with all the love he had for him behind it. Sam was breathing easier and his face was flushed by the time Dean eased him back. He studied his little brother’s face for a moment and frowned as he caught the tell-tale signs. “You had a vision?”

Sam nodded and sighed when Dean’s fingers slipped into his hair to rub at his scalp. “Saw you in the elevator. You were…I saw him…the mirror image of you when it…”

“Shh. Easy. It’s over now. No wonder you were in shock. Jesus.” Dean pulled Sam’s head back down and kissed him again. He licked along Sam’s lips and tangled their tongues together until Sam gave him a soft moan.

Sam chuckled and rested his forehead against his brother’s. “You keep that up and the doc’s gonna get an eyeful when he comes back.”

“Too late.” Dr. Flagg said cheerfully. He’d stepped in the room in time to watch them kiss and smiled as he came over to the bed while Sam pushed himself up so he was sitting with a hand still resting on his partner’s chest. “Now, Sam. Why don’t you move over there and let me examine Dean?”

“Go on.” Dean gave his brother’s hip a little push until Sam slid off the bed with his blanket.

“He’s lying if he says something doesn’t hurt.” Sam grinned at the dark look Dean sent him and moved aside for the doctor. “Just keeping you honest.”

“So kickin’ your ass later,” Dean promised but with a smoldering wink while the doctor wasn’t looking that made his brother’s face flush. Dean smirked and laid his head back. “So, can I get outta here, doc?”

“We’ll see.” Doctor Flagg took a look at the stitches that ran into Dean’s hairline over his left ear and gave a nod. They looked healthy enough. He pulled the man’s shirt up again and went carefully over each rib under the bruising, looking up every time Dean flinched. “How bad is the pain?”

“I’ve had worse,” Dean assured him.

“Let’s see how you do when you sit up then.” Dr. Flagg took hold of one of Dean’s arms and wasn’t surprised when Sam appeared across from him and took the other. “Take it slow, and if you start to feel like you’re going to pass out or throw up, say something.”

Dean gave a short nod and let them pull him slowly up. His head did a few lazy, stomach-churning spins until finally he was sitting and breathing heavily with his eyes closed. “Crap.” He took a few more breaths and opened his eyes to find he was leaning with his face against Sam’s bare chest.

“Dean?” Sam asked worriedly.

“Lay him back down.” Dr. Flagg slid an arm behind the man’s back to ease him down.

“No. No, I’m good. Sorry.” Dean picked his head back up and gave the doctor a clear look to back off before he looked up at his brother. “Hey. Room got a little confused about up and down for a sec there.”

Sam gave a soft, relieved laugh and squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “How’s your head now?”

“All in one piece.” Dean looked up at the doctor and raised a brow. “So? Can we get outta here?” He pulled at the collar of his tee-shirt. “I’d really like a shirt that’s not bloodstained.”

Doctor Flagg looked at both men, watching while Dean carefully swung his legs off the side of the bed under Sam’s watchful gaze and shook his head. “I suppose. Keep an eye on him,” he told Sam seriously. “If he becomes sluggish or unresponsive in any way, you drag him back down here fast as you can. Or better yet, call down to the desk and I’ll come up.”

“I will.” Sam nodded and held on to his brother while Dean stood cautiously. “And, doctor…thank you.”

Dean was happy he only swayed once when he got to his feet and slipped an arm around Sam’s waist under his blanket under the guise of keeping him warm. “Come on. We’ll order room service. Left our lunch in that damn elevator.”

Sam chuckled and gave Dr. Flagg a smile as they walked slowly from the infirmary. “Are you sure you want to walk all the way upstairs? I can get us a room down…”

“Nu-uh. I like our suite.” Dean gave him a lopsided smile and tightened his arm around his brother’s waist. “And the giant-sized bed. I got plans for that bed.” His playful expression darkened and he looked at the roped off door of the elevator as they passed it. “Soon as it’s safe around here, that is.”

“He has to be on the island,” Sam said softly when they reached the stairs. “How did we not know? I mean, he’s too good at it. There’s no way he just started killing in the last two days.”

Dean blew out a breath and glanced over at his brother. “You love me, right?”

Sam stared and missed a step in surprise. “Uh…yeah? Why…”

“Just making sure you remember that.” Dean waved him off. “Wait’ll we get to our room, alright?”

Sam bit his tongue and nodded. Whatever it was, Dean seemed sure he was going to be upset about it, which meant it was bad. “Careful,” Sam told him when Dean staggered. He pulled him in closer to his side and was all but counting the seconds by the time they reached their suite. Sam opened the door and let Dean go in ahead of him, watching as he went to the long couch and dropped to sprawl against the back. “So?”

Dean opened his eyes and looked up at his brother with the sure knowledge this wasn’t going to go well. “Come’re.” He patted the couch next to him and tried a smile when Sam came and sat cautiously next to him.

“Just tell me, Dean.”

“I, uh…” Dean rolled his eyes and sat up straighter in spite of the pounding in his head. “After we got here and you gave me a heart attack with that first vision, I called Bobby.”

“I know that.”

“Would you let me finish?” Dean said in exasperation. “I called Bobby, and he, uh…he knew.”

“About?” Sam’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“He said Ash found another of the…special…kids. ‘Bout three hours from here.” Dean cleared his throat and looked Sam in the eye. “I made the choice not to tell you. We had the echidna to worry about. You’d been bitten. I didn’t want to load more crap on your shoulders when I didn’t have to.” He groaned softly when Sam stood suddenly and paced away. “Sammy, we couldn’t have done anything about it.”

“He almost killed you!” Sam shouted and then swallowed, trying to back his temper off. “I needed to know, Dean.”

“It wouldn’t have changed a damn thing!” Dean said loudly and then grabbed his head as it pounded anew. “Crap.”

Sam opened his mouth and then closed as he watched his brother curl over in pain to hold his head. “Dammit.” He went to the couch and sat down. Sam put his back to the arm and pulled Dean in against his chest. “I really wanna be pissed at you right now. Not fair that you’ve got this whole pain thing going on.”

Dean gave one short nod with his eyes closed and let his head rest on Sam’s collarbone. “Can yell at me later…when my head’s not comin’ apart. Shit, that hurts.” He let Sam pull him about until he was lying back against him with Sam’s legs stretched out on either side of him on the couch. He turned his head into his brother’s neck and breathed deeply. “Sammy…I’m sorry. I was just…”

“I know, Dean.” Sam curved a hand over his brother’s head, careful of the stitches and wrapped his arm across his chest. “I’ll kick your ass about it later. Sleep.” He settled back into the corner of the couch with Dean a blanket against his bare chest and let the temper seep away with the rise and fall of Dean’s chest and the comforting thrum of his heart under his hand. He’d come far too close to losing him, and he knew Dean was right -- knowing another of the psychic kids was so close would have changed nothing, but it still pissed him off that Dean had kept it from him. Sam sighed and put his face into Dean’s hair, resting his cheek there, and closed his eyes. They’d just deal with it now and Sam would make damn sure the bastard didn’t get another shot at Dean.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

Dean woke with his breath clogged in his throat and the remembered terror of the elevator falling. He snapped his eyes open and found Sam leaning over him, holding his face. “Sammy.”

“Breathe. Just take a breath. You’re alright,” Sam reassured his brother in a calm voice and smiled as Dean’s panicked breaths slowed.

“Holy crap,” Dean groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. He pushed up and saw that he’d been covered with a blanket and had been sleeping on his own.

“Hungry?” Sam asked and watched Dean straighten slowly with his arm across his sore chest. “Room service just came.” He smiled and moved so Dean could see the covered tray on the coffee table. He’d only just set the tray down when Dean had started twitching in his sleep, and Sam had done his best to wake him and head off the nightmare before it could really take hold. He picked up a small pill bottle from the tray and held it out. “Dr. Flagg sent these up along with it.” He smirked. “Marcus said he gave orders for you to shut up and take them anyway.”

Dean chuckled and looked at the bottle of prescription painkillers. He took a moment to listen to his body and rate how much pain he was in and then set the bottle aside. “Naw, I’m good.” In truth, he didn’t want to be doped up on painkillers if the killer psychic came at them again…or when he did. “What’d you get?”

Sam rolled his eyes fondly and pulled the cover off. “Roast beef sandwiches, fries, and…” he tapped a small Styrofoam container. “…pie.”

“Damn, I love you,” Dean said with a grin and grabbed the pie first.

Sam laughed and sat beside him, careful not to jostle Dean and cause him more pain as he picked up his own sandwich and took a bite. “So, I called Bobby while you were asleep for a change.”

Dean stopped chewing his piece of apple pie and slid a glance to his brother, wondering if this was a prelude to a verbal ass kicking. “My head’s still sore.”

Sam snorted and took another bite of his sandwich. “Relax.  I’m not kicking your head in for keeping this from me, Dean…this time.”

“Right.” Dean took the warning for what it was and shrugged. He leaned back with his sandwich plate in his lap and sighed. “So, what’d he say?”

“You’re stubborn and stupid.”

“Other than that.”

Sam laughed at his brother’s disgusted face and held his plate out for Dean to steal some of his fries. “He said Ash called him a few hours ago because he’d been tracing the deaths and the guy he thought was behind them. This guy dropped off the radar and Ash has been looking for him for days, and he finally tracked a few more deaths leading right here.”

Dean snorted. “Not exactly a news flash.”

“It wasn’t the guy he was following. That guy…he’s the one I saw murdered in my vision,” Sam said softly and shook his head.

“Nothing you could have done, Sammy.” Dean shifted over and slid an arm over his shoulders until he could get his fingers under the collar. Sam had put a t-shirt on at some point, and Dean let his fingers spread under the neck to brush warm skin. “Even if we’d known then, we couldn’t have saved the poor bastard.”

“I know.” Sam blew out a breath and set his half eaten sandwich aside. “We have to find him.”

“He’s already after us. I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem.” Dean scowled with the truth of those words. If he thought he had a hope in hell of getting Sam off the island, he’d have dragged him away right then. “So, they have any idea who we’re looking for?”

Sam shook his head. “Not yet. Bobby said Ash is trying to get a hold of the passenger manifest from the ferry for the last week.”

“So we got nothin’ to go on. Great.” Dean finished his pie and plowed through the sandwich and fries while Sam sat quietly beside him and knew his little brother was kicking himself like he had the last couple times they’d run across one of these special kids. Somehow, they always turned out to be bad apples, and that made Sam doubt himself. That pissed Dean off more than anything else, because his little brother was one of the best, most caring, frighteningly selfless and bravest souls he’d ever damn well known…he just wasn’t sure how he was ever going to get that through his brother’s thick skull.

“Well, we know he’s here. He’s on the island somewhere.” Sam rolled his head over to rest on Dean’s shoulder and blew out a breath. “I’m sure of it.”

Dean didn’t ask how he knew. If Sam said he was sure, he was. “Alright, then. We search the place. Talk to everyone. Marcus’ll know who’s on the island right now, and we just…we talk to everyone ‘til we find the right guy.”

“And how are we gonna know?”

“He’ll be the one trying to kill us,” Dean said and gave a short, uncomfortable laugh. “Again.”

“I wonder why he picked you?” Sam said softly and narrowed his eyes. “Random choice, or did he know something?”

“We’ll ask him nicely when we find him,” Dean replied darkly. “You done?”

Sam nodded, having lost interest in the rest of his food. “We’ll go find Marcus.” He stood and bent to pull Dean up with him. “How are your ribs?”

“Sore.” Dean shrugged and headed for the bedroom to get clean clothes. “Nothing broken. It’ll be fine.” He put a hand up to his head and rubbed at the ache there. “This is gonna hurt longer.”

Sam smirked. “I didn’t think there was anything that could crack that hard head of yours.”

“Gonna crack yours in a minute.” Dean turned a mock-glare to his brother.

Sam smiled, watching Dean strip off his ruined shirt and jeans and bit his bottom lip as he forced himself to stay by the couch and not go molest his big brother just to reaffirm for himself that he was alive and in one piece. That could wait for later. He grinned and shrugged when Dean turned to look back at him as if feeling Sam’s gaze on him.

“Hound.” Dean chuckled and pulled his jeans up over his bare ass with Sam watching hungrily. He both appreciated his brother’s self-control and lamented the fact that they couldn’t take the time and be irresponsible enough to enjoy each other. He pulled on a shirt and then his jacket and went back out. Dean slipped his arms around Sam’s waist and kissed him softly. “Later.” It was a promise and he smiled when Sam shivered in his embrace.

“Damn well better be,” Sam said, a little breathless and tilted his head to deepen the kiss for a moment before they broke apart grudgingly.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

“And what do you think you’re doing up and walking around?”

Dean and Sam both turned quickly, having just walked into the entrance hall of the castle and watched as Dr. Flagg strode up to them. Dean smiled and held up a hand. “I feel fine, doc.”

“You were in an elevator that crashed, son.” Dr. Flagg looked sternly at him and then turned that look to Sam. “I expected better of you. You were supposed to keep him in bed and resting.”

“He’s stubborn,” Sam said with a chuckle and elbowed his brother, trying to make him lose the angry look that had come over his face when the doctor had spoken to Sam. “He really is alright.”  

“I just wanted to get some fresh air.” Dean wasn’t happy with the tone Flagg had taken with his brother and slipped an arm around Sam’s waist. “He’s not letting me out of his sight.” It was refreshing to be able to touch Sam like that in public without having to worry about someone judging them for being brothers. “Get off his back.”

 Dr. Flagg chuckled and raised his hands in mock surrender. “Didn’t mean to get on it, Dean. I’m sure Sam will make sure you don’t overdo. I just want you to understand that a head injury is nothing to mess around with.”

“We know.” Sam eased his brother back a step. “Oh! Have you seen Marcus?”

“Yes. A little while ago.” Dr. Flagg waved a hand toward the doors. “I think he said something about going down to the docks to make sure the boats were moored properly. There’s a storm coming in tonight.”

“Thanks.” Sam smiled and pulled Dean with him. “Thank you for everything, doctor. Come on.”

Dean let Sam lead him out of the hall and through the doors. It was a chilly night but not freezing and he took a deep breath, letting it clear the flare of temper from him. “I know the guy patched me up and all, but he doesn’t get to talk to you like that.” He quirked a smile and nudged his little brother over a step. “Only I get to talk to you like that.”

Sam laughed and aimed them down the wide, curving stairs in front of the castle toward the docks below. “Lucky for you, I enjoy it when you go all caveman on me.”

“You’re gonna later.” Dean grinned and reached behind Sam to give his ass a firm slap. Though they teased and chatted as they walked, Dean’s eyes were scouring the area around them as were his brother’s. To anyone looking, it would appear as though they were just taking a stroll unless you realized the way their eyes were cataloguing everything around them from the trees to large bushes where someone might hide.

“Dean.” Sam staggered to a halt as pain lanced through his head and only Dean’s arm as it slapped out across his chest stopped him from tumbling to his knees.

“Sam?” Dean pushed him upright and looked into his face. “Oh, crap. Again? Hold on, Sammy. Hey. Look at me.” He took his brother’s face in his hands, but Sam’s eyes were already glassing over and taking on that faraway quality that said he was seeing things Dean couldn’t. “Dammit, come on! Sam!” Sam’s legs went out from under him and Dean dropped to his knees, holding on to him while fear gripped him. “Ok. It’s ok. I gotcha. Man, I HATE these damn visions.” He pulled Sam in against him and prepared to wait it out and deal with whatever new horror his little brother had been shown.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_To Be Continued…_


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Info: A castle, an island and men’s bodies mysteriously drained of blood…what could possibly go wrong? Post 2x05 “Simon Said” Dean/Sam 6th in the “BYC Verse”
> 
> Author's Note: Last chapter. :D Hope you all enjoyed the ride! As usual, my love beta, Janice went through this, added a few lines and made it even better. She’s brilliant folks. Throw her cookies…or coffee…or both. She deserves them. I overwork her horribly.
> 
> Graphic depictions within. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own 'em but if I did…they'd never get dressed. Heh heh heh  
> ~Reviews are Love~

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_Dean grinned and reached behind Sam to give his ass a firm slap. Though they teased and chatted as they walked, Dean’s eyes were scouring the area around them as were his brother’s. To anyone looking, it would appear as though they were just taking a stroll unless you realized the way their eyes were cataloguing everything around them from the trees to large bushes where someone might hide._

_“Dean.” Sam staggered to a halt as pain lanced through his head and only Dean’s arm as it slapped out across his chest stopped him from tumbling to his knees._

_“Sam?” Dean pushed him upright and looked into his face. “Oh, crap. Again? Hold on, Sammy. Hey. Look at me.” He took his brother’s face in his hands, but Sam’s eyes were already glassing over and taking on that faraway quality that said he was seeing things Dean couldn’t. “Dammit, come on! Sam!” Sam’s legs went out from under him and Dean dropped to his knees, holding on to him while fear gripped him. “Ok. It’s ok. I gotcha. Man, I HATE these damn visions.” He pulled Sam in against him and prepared to wait it out and deal with whatever new horror his little brother had been shown._

**Chapter 11**

Sam gasped as he came back to himself, thrown out of the vision, and felt his brother’s strong arms holding him firmly. “Dean!”

“Easy. Easy. I’m here.” Dean kept a tight hold of him as his brother sagged and curled forward to rest his head on his shoulder. He knew the visions made Sam’s head feel like it was splitting apart and, so soon on the last, it had to be agony for him now. He soothed his fingers into Sam’s hair, rubbing at the back of his head, down his neck and back up again to try and relieve some of the pressure. “Take it easy.”

“I saw…” Sam panted with his eyes closed tightly while the pain made him want to throw up.

“Just take a minute, Sam,” Dean soothed and looked around, relieved that they didn’t have an audience for this. “You can tell me in a minute.”

Sam shook his head against Dean’s shoulder and fisted his hands in his brother’s jacket. “No. No. We need to…” Sam reared back finally and looked at him. “We have to get to the docks, now!”

“What’s gonna happen? Who did you see, Sam?” Dean watched the horrified expression that flowed over Sam’s face and the shine of emotion in his eyes. “Sam, who?”

“Marcus. Oh, God, Dean. It’s Marcus. We have to…” Sam struggled to free himself from his brother’s grasp and stumbled to his feet. “Please, hurry. He can’t die, Dean. He just can’t. I can’t let this happen, not this time.”

“Hang on, dammit!” Dean caught up to his brother’s long-legged stride as Sam broke into a run. “What did you see?”

Sam shook his head, too focused on not tripping on the wide stairs as he ran, and kept his eyes trained on the docks down below. “Not Marcus,” he whispered like a plea to anyone that might be listening and his heart broke a little with the thought that he would be too late for the man that had shown him and his brother such kindness, the man who had sat with Sam and kept him calm while his brother was buried in the elevator. “Marcus!” Sam called breathlessly when they reached the bottom and turned, picking up speed toward the docks. His head was pounding hard enough to set off little sparks of light behind his eyes, but he ignored it; time for that later.

Dean kept pace with him and knew eventually Sam was going to crash hard if his pale face and the sheen of sweat that covered it were any indication, but for now…he was driven. “Marcus!” Dean shouted when they neared and pulled ahead of his brother. “Marcus, you in here?” The docks were open to the river, a long, canted roof covered them for a hundred yards or more. Small boats bobbed between each short dock in the increasingly rough waves, and Dean looked up to see dark, angry clouds rolling across the river. “Marcus!”

“The end,” Sam panted for breath and pulled Dean’s arm as he caught up. “End of the dock. There. The blue boat. S’what I saw.”

“Dammit.” Dean put on a fresh burst of speed and ran the length of the docks. A part of him knew they were already too late because he could see no sign of Marcus anywhere. He suffered knowing what this would do to Sam. “Marcus!” Dean wrapped an arm over his chest to support his aching ribs and ignored the need to stop and catch his breath. “Sam, where?”

“Water… by the boat.” Sam was fading fast. The pain still crashing through his skull was quickly draining his ability to stay upright and he staggered into one of the support beams before pushing off and making himself keep moving. He watched Dean move to what he knew was the wrong side of the boat, shook his head and darted past. Sam kicked his shoes off in a moving stumble and dove into the icy waters of the river.

“Sammy!” Dean shouted in surprise as his brother jumped and dove beneath the water. “Son of a bitch!” He jumped into the little blue boat and lurched to the other side, looking into the choppy waves for any sign of his brother. “Sam!” He blew out a breath in relief when Sam surfaced in front of him. “What the HELL are you thinking?”

“He’s here! Dean, he’s…I can’t get him loose!” Sam slapped both arms up on the side of the boat to support himself while he tried to catch his breath and not throw up with the misery punching through him. “Dean.”

“I got it.” Dean heard the pleading note in Sam’s voice. He tore out of his jacket and boots and jumped into the icy water. “You stay up here, dammit!” He took a deep breath and ducked under the waves. His ribs screamed with the pressure of trying to hold his breath, and his eyes burned with the cold water but he kept them open and spotted something red waving in the water where the boat was moored to the dock. Dean swam over and found Marcus floating. The man’s eyes were wide open in fear and his bowtie had been used to tie him to the piling of the pier below the water line. Dean sagged inwardly, knowing it was too late, and untied him anyway. He caught Marcus’ body in his arms and kicked for the surface.

Sam was already climbing out of the water and bent over the side of the boat to take hold of one of Marcus’ arms. “Here. Let me…push!”

Dean shoved and rolled the larger man into the boat with his brother. He took a moment to catch his own breath and then heaved himself into the boat. “Sammy.”

“No. Come on, please.” Sam bent over Marcus and breathed for him twice before bending and using his clasped hands to start chest compressions.

“Sam. He’s gone,” Dean said it compassionately, sadly, but his brother just shook his head and kept trying. “Sam.” He caught Sam’s hands in his own and pulled his little brother back, ignoring the weak fight he put up until he was holding him close while they both shivered over the body of Marcus Danesby. “There’s nothing you can do, Sammy. He’s gone. He’s gone.”

“Not him,” Sam sobbed it and gave in to a moment of weakness as he turned and buried his face in Dean’s neck to cry. “He was so kind…so happy. I can’t…Dean…”

“Shh. I’ve gotcha. I’m sorry, Sammy. I’m so sorry.” Dean held him and looked down at the gentle man who had made such an impression in so short an amount of time, and felt rage burn white-hot through him. Wherever the son of a bitch that killed him was, Dean was going to find him and make sure he paid -- for Marcus, for all the other people he’d killed, and most importantly for the pain and heartache he’d caused his little brother. “Come on. We need to get warm and let someone know about…let’s move.”

Sam stood with his brother and took a last look at Marcus. The guilt rose up to choke him as they left him lying there, and Sam knew it was his fault. The killer had come to the island because of him, and now a sweet old man was dead because of him. After nearly losing his brother in the same day, Sam just wanted to curl up in the dark somewhere and never come out. He leaned heavily into Dean’s shoulder, suddenly feeling weak under the weight of everything crashing down on him.

“Hey, you good?” Dean asked as they trudged back up the stairs to the castle. Sam was vibrating with chills under his arm, but then he wasn’t doing much better. The river was damn near freezing with the storm moving in.

Sam nodded miserably. “Yeah. Sorry.” He took more of his own weight back and forced himself to walk on his own, though Dean kept an arm around him for which he was grateful. He needed the comfort. “I’m just…he shouldn’t have died, Dean.”

“I know, buddy.” Dean slid his hand up his brother’s back to squeeze the back of his neck while they walked and felt a measure of guilt of his own for Marcus. It sucked losing innocents any time on the job, but to lose one like Marcus, with his gentle demeanor and who had gone out of his way to be kind to them…that always hurt more.

Sam let Dean handle talking to people once they returned to the castle, letting him deliver the shocking news that had the handful of employees fleeing out to the docks. He looked up at a hand on his arm and found Dr. Flagg watching him. “Aren’t you going too?”

Dr. Flagg shook his head. “Doesn’t seem there’s much need for me if what Dean says is true. He’s already gone.”

Sam nodded and dropped his eyes. “I tried.”

“No, I can see that.” Dr. Flagg squeezed Sam’s wet shoulder and looked over at his brother, still leaving a wet trail on the floor. “You both need to get in some dry clothes before I’m treating you for hypothermia or, God forbid, a cold.”

“We’re on it, doc.” Dean smiled as he came over and slid an arm around his brother’s waist again. “Come on, Sam.”

“How are your ribs, Dean?” Dr. Flagg stopped him and tapped a finger over the man’s chest. “I’d like a look at that bruising before you go back upstairs. Infirmary?”

Dean scowled but saw the look on his brother’s face that meant ‘please’ and rolled his eyes. “Fine, but I’m freezin’ my ass off here.” He hooked a thumb at his brother. “He gets a cold ‘cause you’re keepin’ us in wet clothes, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Dr. Flagg chuckled and nodded, leading them to the infirmary. “Feels a little indecent to laugh with Marcus down there…dead.” He shook his head and opened the door, allowing Dean and Sam to move past him. “Pick a bed.”

Dean moved to the bed he’d lain on earlier in the day just out of habit and pulled himself up to sit on the side. “Stop hovering.”

Sam gave him a dim version of a smile and moved aside. “I’m not hovering.”

Dr. Flagg closed the infirmary door, locked it, and turned to look at them with another small smile. “Of course, laughing isn’t the only indecent thing around here right now, is it?”

“Say what?” Dean jerked his eyes over to the doctor with a frown of confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dr. Flagg chuckled. “Dead bodies…incestuous brothers.” He wagged a finger at them. “Bet that’s gotten a lot easier with dear old daddy out of the picture, huh?”

Sam backed a step beside his brother as Dean shot to his feet beside him. “You.”

“Oh, come on, Sam!” Flagg groaned and rubbed a hand down his face. “I can’t believe you didn’t know it was me the moment you laid eyes on me. I could practically _taste_ you in the air when I got to the island. But then, I guess you’re still pretty new to this stuff, aren’t you? Takes time to figure it all out. He said you’re his favorite and it pissed me off, but, damn, I can see why. You’re crazy strong.”

“He?” Sam shook his head and grabbed his brother’s arm when Dean tried to step in front of him.

“Hasn’t started talking to you in your dreams yet, huh?” Flagg snorted. “I would say wait for it, but…you’re not going to live that long.”

“You stay the fuck away from him!” Dean shouted. He jerked his arm free from Sam’s grip and moved in front of his brother while rage boiled up through him. “You psychotic son of a bitch!”

“Careful, Dean.” Flagg’s grin faded and he closed his eyes.

Sam gasped as a mirror image of his brother blinked into life a foot away from them. “No!” Sam took Dean’s shoulders and spun him out of the way. “You leave him alone! It’s me you want!”

“Dammit, Sam!” Dean grunted as he bounced off the wall and turned to find the image of himself stalking his brother across the length of the infirmary.

“I was considering letting you live.” Flagg raised a hand to his head, rubbing at the familiar pain that stabbed at him with the use of his powers. “But then you stopped me from killing Dean. That pissed me off. Can’t say I’m sorry about Marcus. That old idiot was kind of irritating. I mean, who still wears bow ties? Seriously. I’d have killed him just for that, but you actually caring about him?” Flagg laughed. “That was gravy.”

Sam brought his hands up as Dean’s image reached for him and gasped as they passed through in a cold shiver like it was a ghost. “Flagg, stop!” Sam yelled at him desperately and thumped into the wall behind him. “You’re a doctor! You’re supposed to help people!”

“Medical student actually but what people don’t know won’t hurt them…much. I help myself, Sam.” Flagg grinned and flung a hand out as Dean took two growling steps toward him. “I wouldn’t, unless you want to watch yourself snap little brother’s neck from here.”

A choked gasp brought Dean’s head around and his eyes widened in horror, watching while the image of himself lifted Sam from the floor by his throat. “Let him go.”

“Or what?” Flagg said dismissively. “What do you think, Dean. Is the church right? Does incest earn you a one-way ticket downstairs? Let’s let Sammy find out fir…” His voice choked off, the gasp lost in the sound of the shot, and Flagg stared in disbelief at the gun Dean Winchester had pulled and aimed at him. He watched the smoke curl from the barrel for a moment before letting his eyes fall to his own chest and the blood beginning to seep through his shirt.

Dean watched the doctor fall with no remorse and ran to his brother as the image of himself snapped out of existence and Sam dropped. “Sammy?”

Sam coughed and gagged, drawing air in desperately as Dean’s comforting arms slipped around him. He looked across the infirmary to Flagg and suffered just that little bit more for yet another person who couldn’t escape what had been done to them as infants. What hope did Sam possibly have? “I’m alright.”

Dean put his gun up at the small of his back, more grateful than ever that he’d taken it before they left their room. “Come on. Someone’s gonna have heard that. We need to get out of here.” He pulled his little brother to his feet and got him moving. Dean could see the look of open guilt on Sam’s face and shook his head. “I didn’t have a choice, Sam. He was gonna kill us both and God knows how many other people. He was batshit crazy.”

“No. I know. It’s…I know.” Sam coughed again and was relieved when they opened the door to find no one there. Everyone, it seemed, was still down at the docks with poor Marcus. They backtracked and reached the stairs unseen, moving as quickly as Sam was able until Dean finally  closed the door to their room behind them with a grateful sigh of breath.

“Come here. Lemme look.” Dean turned Sam and lifted his chin with gentle fingers. “You having any trouble breathing?” There were bruises beginning to come up around his throat but Sam shook his head.

“No. Just sore. I’m fine.” Sam pushed away and headed for the bathroom. “I’m fine, Dean. I just…”

Dean watched him go and closed his eyes when the bathroom door banged shut. He turned and planted a fist in the wall, leaving a dent in the plaster that made his knuckles sting when he hit the stone beneath. “Son of a bitch,” he said softly, angrily, and rubbed his hands through his hair in a bid for calm. He stripped off his jacket and shirts, leaving them in a wet pile and headed for the bedroom as he opened his jeans. He listened and heard Sam gagging in the bathroom. “Dammit.” He quickly rolled the wet denim off, tossing them aside and went for the bathroom.

“Sammy?” Dean pushed the door open and found his brother sitting beside the toilet with his head resting on his forearm. “You sure you’re alright?”

Sam nodded without opening his eyes. It had all just suddenly rushed up to choke him, the deaths, Marcus, the doctor, the things he knew about himself and didn’t have the courage to tell Dean… Sam sighed with relief when he felt his brother settle a cold washcloth over the back of his neck and then felt more miserable, feeling as though he didn’t deserve the comfort.

Dean rubbed a hand up and down Sam’s back and then gave his shoulder a pull. “Come on. Get outta these clothes and brush that taste outta your mouth. You’ll feel better.” It bothered him the quiet way Sam simply nodded and rose, along with the fact that his little brother barely seemed to register that Dean was naked; that almost never happened.

Sam brushed his teeth quickly and then stripped out of his wet clothes, leaving them in a heap in front of the sink. He leaned on the counter and hung his head. “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” Dean said and took hold of his brother’s shoulder to turn him around. “What’s goin’ on with you?”

“This is my fault.” Sam pushed away from the sink and walked into the bedroom with his arms wrapped around himself. “Marcus is dead because I came here, because Flagg was drawn to me and because I wasn’t fast enough to save him!”

“That’s bullshit, Sam, and you know it!” Dean followed his brother out of the bathroom and glared at him. “Don’t you let what that sick son of a bitch did weigh on you. This is not on you!”

“Yes, it is! I’m…I’m wrong somehow, Dean!” Sam threw his arms out and looked at his brother. “You know it! Hell, Flagg knew it! These visions, the things I see, the things I can…I think maybe part of me is evil!”

“Shuddup!” Dean’s temper flared and he grabbed Sam’s arm, giving him a shake. “You’re not evil, you idiot!”

“You don’t know that!”

“Sammy…” Dean let his arm go because the temptation to shake sense into him until his teeth rattled was too great just then. He couldn’t bear to hear the broken catch in his brother’s voice that made it all too clear Sam truly believed what he was saying.  Through it all, his dad’s last words to him echoed in his mind -- save Sam or kill him. He shook his head fiercely with anger --  anger at his father for dumping that on him and then leaving him alone to deal with it, at Sam for thinking that way about himself, at fate or whatever had thrown all this crap at his family to start with. Sometimes it was just too overwhelming.

“What if I turn into them? Into Flagg?” Sam moved into his brother, into his personal space, and wished Dean was wearing a shirt so he could fist his hands in it. “What if I turn evil, Dean? They all have!”

“I get that you’re scared, Sam, but you need to shut up now.” Dean growled it angrily and backed away a step, but his brother came with him, as if silently enforcing what his dad had told him without even realizing; there would never be a scenario where killing his brother would be an option. Sam was still yelling, his face turning red with anger and fear as he watched, and Dean realized suddenly what he needed…what maybe they both needed. He snapped his hand out and curled his fingers around the collar at Sam’s throat. “Stop.” It was like flicking a switch. Sam cut off in mid-tirade. His eyes went wide and then softened with gratitude as he calmed and went slack in Dean’s hold.

“Please, please, please,” Sam whispered the words as he curled over and let his head rest on his brother’s shoulder. He couldn’t begin to express the gratitude that Dean understood and would take the weight of responsibility off his shoulders, even for a little while.

“Get on the damn bed.” Dean pulled hard at Sam’s collar and used his grip to turn him and shove him forward because needed or not, he was still damn well pissed. The things Sam were saying were hitting too close to home, to that secret he couldn’t bring himself to tell his little brother because he had a frighteningly good idea what Sam would say. “On your stomach.”

Sam went in a stumble and then crawled onto the king size bed. The fear and the guilt still moved sickly through him, but Dean was going to help him. He knew his big brother would never use their relationship to try and control him, but that Dean could look at him right then and understand that Sam NEEDED to not be in control for a little while…a warm feeling of love flowed through him and he let himself sink into the comforter.

Dean went to his duffel and pulled it open, quickly finding the padded, leather cuffs he’d stuffed into the bottom of it just because…you never knew when you were going to have the chance to tie Sammy down to something fun. This was the first time since they’d arrived that he felt secure enough to tie his brother down with both the creature and that bastard Flagg dead. The castle was safe, or safe enough for this at least. “Spread, Sam,” he ordered in a voice still heavy with temper, but he wasn’t so far gone that he didn’t shiver with appreciation at the way Sam wordlessly moved to obey.

Sam put his hands and feet at the four corners of the bed and concentrated on his breathing while Dean attached the cuffs to the posters and then restrained him. Each brush of Dean’s fingers sent a shiver of need through him and he turned his head to watch as Dean stepped back to look at him. “Don’t you go easy on me. Don’t you dare.”

Dean snarled and went back to the duffel. He pulled out the whip that Steve had gifted him with. It was much shorter than the one he’d used on stage, more suited for intimate play in a bedroom and the end had a light weight covered in felt. Dean gave it a practice twitch, listening to the muffled ‘snap’ and gave a dark smile at the shiver he saw run through his brother’s body. “You’re gonna stop talkin’ about yourself like that, little brother.”

Sam turned his face into the pillow with Dean’s words and shivered again, both at the chill in the air and the promise in Dean’s voice. “Do it,” he said breathlessly into the pillow and groaned with the first sharp touch of the whip across his back.

Dean pulled the whip back and flicked it out again, dragging the weight across his brother’s lower back and left a long, red line. He wouldn’t draw blood, but he’d made it hard enough to hurt, enough for Sam to feel it long after they were done, knowing it was what Sam wanted. He let his mind drift into the place he’d gone on the stage that night as he snapped the whip out over and over. All the anger and grief and helplessness that had been building up inside him only to get shoved down into the dark recess of his mind seemed to finally find an outlet on the willing, vulnerable canvas of his brother’s skin. Sam’s muffled cries filled the room with each strike, and slowly Dean’s temper worked out of him, the anger and frustration bleeding away as he strode back and forth around the bed.

Sam gave himself over to what Dean was giving him. Each lash of pain on his skin was like a balm to the guilt and self-loathing still curled sickly in his gut. He deserved it and more, more than Dean was giving him, and he whimpered with the frustration of not hurting enough. “More,” he begged. “Please, Dean…more.”

Dean moved from Sam’s left side to his right and crisscrossed the marks he’d already laid across the smooth, round cheeks of his little brother’s ass. He moved his strokes up high across the small of Sam’s back and Dean sucked in a shocked breath when Sam anticipated him. His little brother arched up into the whip’s next strike so the felted weight finally struck hard enough to break the skin. The last of his anger drained away in a dizzying rush of realization as he watched blood seep up through the lash mark and run down Sam’s heaving side.

“Don’t stop,” Sam gasped, panting for breath with the pain rolling through him. “Please, Dean. Please. Please.”

“What…what am I doing?” Dean breathed the words, staring at the trickle of blood, horrified, and let the whip fall to the floor with a thump. He untied the cuffs at Sam’s ankles with shaking hands while his brother muttered ‘no, no, no’ over and over, lost in some truly dark place inside his own head. Dean ignored him and crawled up the bed. He untied Sam’s left arm and then lay beside him, slipping one arm under his chest and curved his free hand around his brother’s face, turning it toward him. “Sammy, God. Stop. Stop.” Dean brushed the tears from his brother’s cheek with his fingers and leaned their foreheads together. “I’m sorry. I should have figured it out sooner, what you were trying to do. I was just…I was pissed, and you…I’m sorry, Sam.”

“No, Dean. No.” Sam cried and burrowed his face under his brother’s chin. “I deserve it. Please, don’t stop.”

“Sam, no.” Dean shifted and pulled until he had his brother diagonal on the bed with only his right arm still handcuffed to the post and he wrapped himself around him. “You don’t deserve to be punished. None of this is your fault, Sammy. These deaths, they’re not your fault, and you’re not going to turn into Flagg or any of those other murderous bastards.”

“You don’t…you don’t know that.” Sam couldn’t seem to stop crying, even as he curled around Dean’s warm body.

“Yes, I do.” Dean took Sam’s face in his hands and pulled him up so he could place a gentle kiss on his lips and look into his watery eyes. “I know because you have something they didn’t.” He kissed Sam again, breathing into his mouth and sharing his breath with him. “You have me.” Dean wrapped his brother’s shaking body up in a tight embrace. “You have me and I am never gonna let that happen to you, you hear me? Not while I’m around, little brother. I love you.”

Sam felt his heart break in his chest and sobbed into Dean’s kiss, curling his free arm around him in a desperate attempt to crawl inside him and hide. “Love you, Dean. I’m sorry. Oh, God…I’m sorry.”

“Shh, Sammy. Stop, now. Stop.” Dean loosened his grip and leaned back enough to see his face again. He kissed his brother’s salty cheeks and brushed their lips together as he felt his own tears crowd his eyes. “I’m not gonna punish you. You don’t deserve it, and that’s NEVER what this” he waved his hand in a vague gesture between them, “is supposed to be about.” Dean bit gently at his brother’s bottom lip until he heard his breath catch and tremble. “I am gonna make you beg. Gonna make sure you know you’re loved…” he moved his head down to bite Sam’s neck below his ear. “…and safe…” Dean took hold of the collar and gave it a firm tug before sliding his fingers up and fisting them tightly in his brother’s hair. “…and mine.”

Sam nodded and darted his head forward to capture his brother’s mouth, needing to taste him. “Yours, Dean. Yours…always yours.”

Dean let Sam kiss him, tangling their tongues together in a breathless dance for a few minutes and finally pulled away grudgingly. He caught Sam’s free hand in his and brought it up over his head to the post, deftly tying the cuff to his other wrist and pinning his arms there.

“Wanna feel you,” Sam arched up into Dean’s body, feeling their semi-hard cocks brush together and huffed out a frustrated breath when his brother moved away.

Dean smiled and slid slowly down Sam’s body. “I’ll get to that, but not yet. Not even close.”

Sam shuddered and warmth moved through him as Dean’s teeth closed on one of his nipples, biting and sucking. He squirmed on the bed, feeling each welt from the whip on his back, buttocks and legs. “Dean…fuck.”

“I gotcha, Sammy.” Dean moved off to the side and pulled Sam’s hip, turning him onto his stomach. He moved to straddle his brother’s legs and leaned up. Dean started at Sam’s shoulder blades, brushing his tongue and lips over each mark he had put on his little brother like a benediction. Sam shivered with each touch and seemed to settle more firmly into the bed as he moved down his back. Dean stopped and looked at the broken skin of the last lash he’d given him. “I’m sorry, Sammy,” he whispered and he bent down to run his tongue along the open welt, gathering the drops of coppery blood on his tongue while Sam whimpered beneath him.

“Ah, G…God!” Sam writhed with the bite of pain/pleasure from Dean’s tongue and moaned as Dean’s hands smoothed around his hips and pulled him up so he was kneeling with his face on the bed. His cock had long gotten back into the game with Dean licking his way down his back over each welt and strained between his legs now. It ached to be touched but Dean pulled him just high enough that he had no relief.

“Not even close to enough begging yet,” Dean said with a warm smile as he brushed his cheek against his brother’s hip. He dragged the fingers of one hand between the cheeks of Sam’s ass, letting the tips of each catch briefly on the edge of his hole and making his hips jerk in response. Dean moved to rest between his brother’s legs, spreading him wide but making sure to keep his hips in the air. He needed to make Sam scream with pleasure. He was driven by his own guilt that he’d essentially abused his brother with a whip by not paying attention to what was really going on. He’d actually injured him, however unintentionally, and that was definitely not okay.  Dean was going to do his best to make sure Sam remembered nothing but how loved and cherished he was…that he was worth saving.

“Dean!” Sam shouted and pulled on the cuffs with the first swipe of Dean’s tongue between his cheeks. He was desperate for his brother’s touch, any touch, and he cried out in need, arching his back and pushing against Dean’s agile tongue.

“Fuck, Sam,” Dean pulled his face back and easily shoved two fingers inside his brother. He groaned as Sam’s muscles fluttered around his fingers and he could tell he was close; Sam’s whole body seemed to be vibrating with pleasure. Dean slipped a hand around Sam’s hip and clamped his fingers at the base of his brother’s straining cock. “Not ‘til I say, Sammy.”

Sam cried out again with Dean’s fingers thrusting inside him and nailing his sweet spot with each jab. The cuffs were the only thing keeping him from giving himself relief, and he pulled at them frantically.

Dean watched Sam writhing and pushing back against his hand, seeing desperation in every line of his body. “You can stop me, Sammy. You know you can,” Dean leaned up over his back rubbed his cheek on Sam’s shoulder blade like he was marking him. “Safe word, Sam. Remember?” he asked, because he wasn’t altogether sure right then that Sam did, but his brother’s movements stilled for just a moment and he nodded.

“Not…not saying it,” Sam assured his big brother and pushed back against him again. “Please, Dean…please lemme come!”

“Fuck, I love you,” Dean moaned and leaned back again. He was careful to keep his fingers tight at the base of Sam’s cock. He knew the moment he let go, Sam would come whether he wanted to or not. “You ready for me, Sammy?” Dean pressed the head of his cock against his brother. It was going to be rough and they were both going to feel it later with only Dean’s saliva to slick the way, but he thought that was something they both wanted just then. Dean’s breath was punched out of him when Sam shoved back suddenly and took him in. “Fuck!”

“More, dammit. More!” Sam was frantic and needed to feel Dean moving inside him. He needed it like he needed air to breathe, and he sucked in a breath around the burn of too much/not enough as Dean pushed further in.

“Pushy…bottom,” Dean smirked and had to concentrate on not coming as he slid all the way inside and leaned over Sam’s back. “Son of a…feel so good, Sammy. God. Too good.”

Sam nodded, beyond speech as Dean slid his cock back out in a drag of flesh on flesh. He was so far past needing to come, he was in tears as he sobbed breaths into the bed and held on to his own cuffs to anchor himself.

Dean set up a tortuous rhythm, just fast enough and hard enough to shove Sam up the bed a little at a time. He held on to his hip with his free hand, bruising his fingers into Sam’s flesh. There’d be marks there later and Dean was looking forward to paying attention to each one with his tongue. Now, he used his knees to force Sam’s legs a little further apart and knew he’d found what he wanted as he shoved home again and Sam shouted hoarsely. “That’s it, Sammy. Want…want you screamin’…when I come. Fuck.” He drove in and out a few more times, listening to Sam shout and jerk beneath him in an overload of pleasure. Dean took a breath and slid his hand up Sam’s engorged cock in a hard stroke.

Sam screamed as the pressure released. Dean’s work-roughened fingers squeezed his cock in a hard pull that was too much. His release slammed into him and was so big, so powerful, Sam couldn’t have said if it was pain or pleasure that arched his back and drove another scream from his mouth with Dean buried deep inside him.

Dean’s back bowed over his brother as his own orgasm burned through him. It stole his breath on a shout of his brother’s name and he wrapped his arms around Sam’s chest, holding him while his little brother shook himself apart. “Fuck…fuck…fuck,” Dean’s voice was a breathless pant as their bodies slowly stilled and collapsed together. His vision came close to tunneling into black with the strength of his release. Dean took a few deep breaths and tried to rein in his frantic breaths. He slipped slowly out of Sam with a grimace of discomfort and eased beside him.

“Sammy.” Dean forced his arms to move and reached up, unhooking the cuffs from his brother’s wrists. He pulled Sam’s arms down and pressed gentle kisses to the skin of his wrists, chafed in spite of the padding. “Hey, baby. Sammy.” He pulled Sam into his arms and slid a hand into his hair around the back of his brother’s head, cradling him gently. “Come back to me now. Come on.” Dean kissed him, slow and deep and smiled when he felt Sam breathe in and begin to kiss him back. He pulled back just a little until their lips were barely brushing and smiled. “You alright?”

“Mmm hmm,” Sam hummed, refusing to open his eyes. His body was lax and still trembling gently with aftershocks from what Dean had given him. It took more effort than he wanted to think about to slide one arm over his brother’s waist.

Dean chuckled softly and kissed him again. “Yeah, I don’t wanna move either. Hang on.” He tried to pull away and the arm Sam had over his waist grew heavier as his little brother mewed his discontent. Dean smiled more widely and kissed his forehead. “Just getting something to clean us up. I’ll be right back. Two seconds.”

Sam sighed and nodded once, letting Dean ease away from him. He shivered with the loss of warmth. A haze of pleasure still hung over everything. Sam could distantly feel how sore he would be later but he smiled. It was worth it.

“Why you smilin’?” Dean asked softly as he crawled back on the bed with a bottle of water and damp washcloth.

“’Cause my big brother’s kinda awesome,” Sam mumbled and finally cracked an eye when he felt Dean smoothing a soft cloth between his legs. He wanted to be embarrassed about being cleaned like a child but in truth, it simply felt caring and comforting. He reached a hand out and brushed his fingertips against Dean’s knee while he worked. “Love you, Dean and…I’m sorry. I kind of, uh…lost it a little before, huh?”

Dean nodded. He tossed the cloth away and pulled the comforter over them as he laid back and pulled Sam into his arms. “We both did a little. Here, drink some of this.” He held the bottle for Sam, letting him take several long swallows before he took one himself and set it aside. Dean leaned back into the pillows while Sam settled against his chest and tangled their legs together. He rubbed a hand up and down Sam’s arm and put his cheek in his shaggy hair. “Seriously, Sam. You ok? Your back…”

Sam cut off the apology he knew was coming.  “Is gonna be sore for a while, but I’m not sorry. And I don’t want you to be either.” Sam kissed Dean’s chest and tilted his head up to look at him. “Aside from the whole unhealthy, wanting to be punished thing…” Sam flushed and ducked his face away. “…the rest of it was…holy shit, dude. That was amazing.”

Dean smiled, relieved and wrapped both arms around his brother. He was careful of his back but held him close. “Yeah, that was kinda mind-blowing, even for us.” He pulled his fingers through Sam’s hair, tugging tangles out and smiling with each happy shiver he earned. “I meant what I said before, Sam.” Dean let his fingers slide under Sam’s collar around his neck. “Nothin’s gonna happen to you while I’m around. You are never gonna be like them. Never.”

Sam slid his arm over Dean’s stomach and snuggled into him under the comforter. “I know,” he said softly and did his best to push his fears to the back of his mind. “I trust you.”

“I know you do,” Dean whispered and held him as Sam went heavy in sleep. He ran his fingers lightly up and down Sam’s arm, easing him deeper into sleep. He hoped that he’d be strong enough to keep his promise because the truth was, there were days when Dean felt like something huge and terrible was bearing down on them, just out of their sight and it made him twitch. “Love you, Sammy.” He kissed the top of Sam’s head and closed his own eyes to join him in sleep. “Swear I will take care of you, little brother. Always.”

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_The End._


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